By Your Side
by SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: AU! 14 year old Spencer had no idea what was waiting for him when he went with his father on a trip to New Orleans. He'd never expected to find himself being sold off as payment for a debt. It may be the end of the life he'd known, but could it be the start of something so much better? Follow the boys as they grow up together and follow the path they were meant to be on-together
1. Chapter 1

New Orleans was a beautiful city. At any other time, fourteen year old Spencer Reid would've enjoyed his visit here. He'd been excited about it when his father had first told him they were coming. Over the past year, he'd heard so many things about this city and had wanted to come on his father's many visits down here but he'd known better than to ask to come. Never had he imagined that his father would want to take him anywhere. He made no bones about his distaste for his only son. The disappointment in him was clear every time he looked at the child who had been so clearly stamped a mutant from birth. With silver hair, not quite dull enough to be considered grey, and his mismatched eyes—the right one brown, with little silver flecks hidden in it, and the left one bright silver with little flecks of brown—there had never been a doubt that the boy had been born a mutant. Nor had there ever been a doubt that William despised him for it.

That had only grown stronger when Spencer had hit puberty last year and had come into his mutation, showing a gift for clairvoyance. Not that he knew that's what it was the first time it kicked in. Spencer hadn't realized that his nightmares of fire and people screaming had been anything other than a nightmare—until the next morning when he saw the fire on the news.

Clairvoyance has varying definitions, which Spencer discovered when he researched it. But for the most part he found the descriptions to all agree that it's an enhanced development of a person's 'sixth sense'. The ability to know things even when they're not obvious. It could come in the form of images, visions, or dreams. Some even said that it was just sound for them, a few words whispered in their ears. Some saw in symbols. For Spencer, it was often visions, either awake or asleep. But sometimes it was just this sense of _knowing_. Like when he saw the woman at the checkout at the grocery store and he'd known, without even touching her, that she was pregnant. With a girl. The woman hadn't started showing until a few months later. Other times, it was just a simple impression of a person. His mother said that what he was feeling was their 'aura'. It gave him enough of an impression sometimes to know that a person was someone he needed to avoid. With practice, he was getting better at it. Stronger.

It wasn't consistent, though. Spencer didn't know if that was because he was so young, new to his powers, or if it was just his own limitations. Or if maybe these powers weren't constantly 'on', so to speak. That last one made the most sense to him. No one could live with that constant state of input. He'd go crazy if he saw visions or auras or countless other things every time he looked at a person. The fact that he seemed to be slowly—very, very slowly—starting to gain control, to actually seek things out instead of just get hit by them, supported that theory. It was just like any other power, something he had to access, not something that was in use twenty four/seven.

Of course, his powers only made his father more distrustful of him and he'd mostly avoided Spencer since then, shooting him looks of thinly veiled disgust when they were forced together. That was why it had been such a surprise when he'd told Spencer that he was coming to New Orleans with him on this trip. But Spencer hadn't wanted to question such a gift. He'd just packed his bag and happily joined his father to fly down here. He wished now he hadn't been so eager.

William had waited until they'd arrived and were at the hotel before he told Spencer why they were here. Or, more importantly, why _Spencer_ was here.

Where had his powers been earlier, huh? How come they hadn't told him about _this_?

Apparently, William Reid owed one Jean-Luc LeBeau quite a lot of money. Bad enough if he'd been just a simple man. But no, of course it wasn't that simple. He wasn't just a 'regular guy'. He was the patriarch to the damn _Thieves Guild_, something that Spencer had heard of but had thought was just a myth—right up until the moment he stood in front of his father and was told that he was being sold to the head of the New Orleans Thieves Guild to become a companion to his son as a payment for a debt.

Spencer had immediately argued, of course. Fear of his father wasn't enough to hold his tongue at this. He'd shouted, begged, pleaded, argued, even threatened to go to the police. All it had earned him was a cut on the cheek from his father's ring and the warning that he had damn well better do what he was told if he ever wanted a chance to see his mother again. "You foul this up, boy, and I swear to you I'll make sure you never see her again." William promised him furiously, lip curled up in that disgusted sneer he got whenever forced to directly interact with his son. "That is, if they don't kill us all, cause I sure as hell don't have the money to pay them!"

That had left Spencer with no real choice here. His mother was the most important person in his world, the only person who loved him wholly and unconditionally, and William knew that. He knew that Spencer would do anything to keep her safe. Including letting himself be sold off in some modern day slave trade.

That was how Spencer found himself here, sitting in the backseat of his father's rental car, being driven to the place that was to become his home for the next four years. _Just four years until I'm eighteen_, he reminded himself for at least the twentieth time since this whole thing had started. _Once I'm eighteen, no one can stop me from getting out of here. This isn't legal. There's no binding contract. Once I'm eighteen, I can leave this place behind and there's nothing they can do about it. I'll be old enough to go and take care of Mom, get her the help she needs, and if Dad still owes these people by then, they can take it out on _him_. I just have to make it four years._ Those words weren't as reassuring as he hoped they would be.

Spencer pulled back out of his thoughts when he felt the car start to slow. His eyes went out the window once more and he looked up at the house they were pulling up to. No, not house. This wasn't a simple house. _Manor_ was the word that came to mind. Mansion was another good word. They were stopping at a gate, an actual wrought iron gate, and someone was there to open it for them once they spoke to William. Spencer couldn't help but admire the house a little as they drove in. It was beautiful. Old, too. A two story house with a long patio on both the first and second floor, supported by giant pillars. There was an old, southern feel to it that spoke of wealth and status in a way that few things truly did anymore. Any other time and Spencer would've been utterly fascinated. He would've stared, taking in all the details, his mind spouting out the facts he'd memorized. Now? Now, all he could do was stare and think to himself that it was beautiful—for a prison.

* * *

The inside of the house was just as beautiful as the outside. It reflected the same aura of wealth and status, too. Only, in here, it was just slightly _warmer_. There was a touch here that spoke to Spencer's other senses of _home_. This wasn't one of those rich houses where people stayed but didn't actually live. Where it was more museum than home. No, this place was a home to the people who lived here. Spencer could feel the sense of peace and family that spread through here. Not even his own tension could block that out.

Nervously, he adjusted his shirt. His father had made him dress very carefully for tonight. Black slacks and a button up dark blue shirt that his mother had gotten for him. He wasn't allowed his usual sunglasses, which he generally used to hide the shining silver of his left eye, but he was wearing one of the many caps his father had bought for him to wear out in public that he could tuck his silver hair underneath so it wasn't visible. The hat looked strange with the niceness of the rest of his outfit but it kept his hair fully hidden.

They were escorted into the house by the man who had met them at the door. A servant of some sorts, Spencer assumed. They reached a set of double doors and William straightened up, a clear indicator of what, or _who_, was on the other side. He cast Spencer a sharp look and the young boy straightened up as well, though the urge was there to slouch. Only his father's earlier words and the need it had instilled to do what was necessary to protect his mother were enough to have him obeying and straightening himself up. Detestable as this was, he had to present himself right. He couldn't have the LeBeaus disappointed by him. If they decided they didn't want him, there was no doubt in Spencer's mind that his father would go through with his earlier threats. Hands in his pockets, shoulders squared, face turned down, Spencer followed his father into what he quickly saw was an office.

It was standing there that he got his first look at the LeBeau family. There were three men and one woman there. The family, he would later learn. Jean Luc stood in front of his desk, leaning casually back against it, and beside him was a man who had to be his oldest son. Henri, William had called him. He was the spitting image of his father. The other two took up the two chairs that were in front of the man. On the left was an elderly black woman who radiated an aura unlike any that Spencer had ever seen. Bright and strong, even though he couldn't see the others right now. Hers shone clear and true. She looked up and her eyes bypassed everyone else to lock right on him. Immediately a smile curved her lips and she was radiating such a sense of welcome that Spencer actually found some of his fear slipping away from him.

"Welcome, M. Reid." Jean-Luc's warm voice interrupted Spencer's thoughts and his gaze quickly snapped to the man who had, essentially, _bought him_. There was none of the cruelness that Spencer had imagined in him. He'd thought for sure that any person who would take on a teenager as a payment to a debt had to be a cruel man. Cruel or sick. He'd expected to get that feeling that some people gave him that spoke of danger and darkness. There was none of that on Jean-Luc LeBeau. He was smiling politely at them and his eyes, when they drifted over Spencer, were friendly and welcoming, with little wrinkles at the corners that suggested someone well used to smiling. They cooled quite a bit when they moved to William, though, and Spencer caught a glimpse of the danger inside the man that he'd expected to see before.

William stopped halfway into the room, Spencer just one step behind him and off to the side, and he gave that fake smile of his that he always used on clients or people he was pretending to like. "Good evening, Mr. LeBeau. My apologies for being a few minutes late. Traffic got a bit tight on the way over here."

"Not a problem." Jean-Luc reassured him. How William didn't notice the false note to the man's voice, Spencer didn't know, but it made the young teen worry. Had he misread him? Was this man not as nice as he had seemed for that instant he'd been looking at Spencer? Nausea churned in Spencer's stomach. What if this had all been a lie? What if this man didn't really want him as a companion for his _son_? He was a decently sized guy. Big enough, and strong looking. Plus, he was a trained thief. A _master_ thief. William had explained some of it to Spencer earlier. He probably knew countless ways to get what he wanted. Spencer wouldn't stand a chance against him, he knew. He was too small. Short, still, though he'd been sprouting up lately, and slender as a reed. Underweight, even, according to the doctor. He wouldn't stand a chance against a full grown man.

While Spencer had been busy whipping himself into one hell of a panic, he'd apparently missed something, because William was moving over towards the desk now and gesturing for Spencer to stay where he was. There were papers there that it looked like Jean-Luc was getting William to sign. In no time at all his father had scrawled his signature across the pages and was looking up at Jean-Luc with a broad smile that he usually wore after a hard won case. He stuck his hand out to the man. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

There was just a slight curl to Jean-Luc's lip that belied his next words. "And with you, M. Reid." He shook William's hand briefly, just a bare touching of palms.

If William noticed the man's slight, he didn't comment on it. He turned around and moved back towards Spencer, still grinning like he'd won the lottery, and was it right that a man should look so happy when he'd just signed away his only child? Spencer wanted to scream at him, to demand to know what the hell he thought he was doing. He wanted to throw himself at the man who had never given a damn for him and beg, screw his pride, to be brought back home. The need for it ran through him so strong that his body gave a slight tremble. When William got close, Spencer couldn't help himself. "Dad…" His voice was a low, pleading whisper, just one word packed full of all the fear that was burning in him right then.

"You do what you're told. Be good." William said in reply, one hand coming up to pat Spencer's cheek right over the mark from the earlier slap. Then, with nothing more than that, he turned back to the others and gave a short bow, politely said "Thank you for your generosity. You have a good evening, gentlemen," and then with nothing more than that, he turned and headed to the door.

Spencer locked his jaw and fought back the cry that wanted to rip out of him. Heat burned in the backs of his eyes, the threat of tears. His father was walking out and leaving him here. He was actually leaving him here. Up until this moment this all had seemed like some sort of hazy dream. _Shock_, his brain supplied. He'd been numb to so much of it because of shock. But that was fading away now with the realization that this really was going to happen .William had just sold him off to pay a debt and he was actually leaving him here now with a group of strangers that had apparently thought nothing of buying off a fourteen year old!

Apparently he wasn't the only one thinking that. "Dat's it?" A husky voice said. Spencer's gaze snapped up and focused on the other person in the room, the one he hadn't paid much attention to before. It wasn't Jean-Luc's oldest, Henri. This had to be his youngest, the one that William had said was adopted. Remy. The teenager was sitting himself up in his chair and even with his sunglasses on, it was still easy to tell that he was fixing a glare on William.

"I beg your pardon?" William stopped, turning slowly to look over to Remy. His expression was guarded, a little cautious to cover up the temper that Spencer knew how to read underneath.

Shaggy auburn hair slid down into Remy's face and he pushed it back irritably with one hand. "Y' jus' signed away y'r sons life to a family y' don't know an all y' can tell him is to _be good_? Aint y' got not'ing else to say to him? Like, I dunno, maybe telling him y' love him? Or dat y'r sorry?"

"He knows how I feel about him." William said stiffly. The words sent a pang through Spencer and he tried to hide his flinch.

His efforts to hide it must've been unsuccessful. A sneer crossed Remy's face. "Clearly." He drawled out.

Stiffening at the implications of that, William fought for a moment for control. When he spoke again his spine was ramrod stiff and so was his voice. "Will that be all?"

"That'll be everything." Jean-Luc said smoothly.

There was a moment where, as William turned, his eyes briefly met Spencer's. It was the first time in many years that Spencer could remember his father actually meeting him eye to eye without the usual disgusted flinch. Normally the man couldn't stand to look at Spencer's multicolored eyes. But he did now for just the briefest of moments. Then, before anyone could say another word, he turned away and was gone, striding right out the door. Spencer stood there and stared after him and felt the last little thread of hope that he'd been clutching finally fall away. This was really happening. He was really being left here. _I wonder if Mom knows. What's he going to tell her? She'll be devastated when he comes home without me._ Sorrow hit Spencer like a fist to the gut.

He heard movement from over by the desk that abruptly reminded him that he wasn't alone here. Spencer quickly gathered together what little pride and courage he could muster and he turned back to face the LeBeau family with his spine straight and his chin lifted as if in preparation or even a dare for a blow. The fourteen year old tried to make himself stand just a little taller and look just a little less afraid. He had no idea how he looked to them, or how miserably he failed at hiding his fear. The others could see it in his wide eyes, in the slight tremble to his slender body.

Jean-Luc's heart ached for the boy. He wanted to go to him, to reassure him that he was safe here, but he knew not to. The years after adopting Remy had taught him quite a few things about how to handle skittish children. He had a feeling that Spencer's fears were just the same as Remy's fears had been when he first came here. With that in mind, he didn't go to the boy, but chose instead to stay leaning against his desk, giving Spencer a bit of space between them. His expression softened, as did his voice. "I don't know how much y'r Papa told y', Spencer, but I'm Jean-Luc LeBeau and dis here is m' family. Dis here is m' oldest, Henri, and his younger brother, Remy." He gestured to each boy as he introduced them. "And dis woman here is Mattie."

"Tante Mattie, chile." The woman said in a voice warm and thick. She smiled brightly up at him. "Y' call me Tante Mattie, jus' like de rest of dem."

Because Spencer had been raised with manners, no matter the situation, he didn't say any of the things that were bouncing around inside of his mind. Instead, he dipped his head ever so slightly and spoke respectfully, just the way his mother had taught him. "It's a pleasure to meet you all, sirs, ma'am."

A scoff and a snort broke the formal air that had fallen over the room. Henri reached over and smacked his brother's shoulder, offering him a taunting grin. "Would y' look at dat, Rem! Bout de only time in y'r life anyone's ever gonna call y' somet'ing as nice as '_sir_', yeah?"

"Bite me." Remy shot back lazily, tipping his head back to flash a smirk at his brother.

Jean-Luc rolled his eyes and let out a soft sigh. "Boys…"

"_Désolé, _Papa." Two voices said simultaneously.

The look on their father's face was one of fond exasperation. "Brats." There was no sting to the word, though, and he was smiling when he looked back at Spencer. "Ignore dem. Dey like to bicker. Y'll get used to it. Now, I know dere's a lot dat we should all talk about, but it's been a long day and I imagine y'r tired. Remy, why don't y' show Spencer where he'll be sleeping? We can talk more in de morning after everyone's had a good night's sleep and some breakfast."

"_D'accord, _Papa." Remy said. He pushed up from his chair and Henri moved with him, following over as Remy made his way right up to Spencer.

The youngest LeBeau looked at their new guest and offered him a cheeky smile that held just a hint of the devil to it. Spencer found himself wanting to smile back without quite realizing why. It took a lot of effort to keep his lips from curving. He wasn't going to smile at the man. He wasn't going to like him. These people had _bought him_. Why on earth would he want to be friendly to them? Maybe he had to be polite, just to make sure that this whole deal wasn't ruined, but it didn't mean he had to be _friendly_. Yet that resolve was hard to hold on to with Remy smiling at him like that. Then the teen stopped right beside him, just inches from him, and any resolve Spencer had flew right out the window. Remy looked down at him, sunglasses tipped down just enough that Spencer saw his red and black eyes for the first time, and in the moment that their eyes connected it was like a jolt ran through Spencer.

Images that he couldn't decipher flashed through his mind. Thoughts, feelings, sensations, all too mixed and jumbled for him to understand or decipher. He'd had visions before that he hadn't quite understood until something happened later on to make it clear. Nothing like this, though. There were so many things that he didn't quite understand, little flashes that lasted just a quarter of a second. One part of it was clear, though. Threaded through it all, underlying every single image, was a feeling of _right_ and _home_ and _connection_ that seared through him like an electric jolt. His whole body trembled with it and his eyes widened. The images faded away, leaving almost nothing behind, but the sensations stayed with him. As Spencer stared at the teen in front of him, he knew, in that way of his that he could never explain, that Remy was someone important. Just as he knew that his being here, them being here together, was the start of something. What that something was, he had no idea. He just knew it was there. For one brief instant it was like he could see the threads of their future slowly weaving together. No longer separate, but together, until one couldn't be seen without the other, little threads turned into a rope strong enough to hold against anything.

Then it all started to fade and the world slowly returned around him. Spencer became aware of the fact that he was just standing there like some kind of idiot, staring up at Remy, whose smile had turned into an amused smirk that almost instantly set Spencer on the defensive. "See somet'ing y' like, petit?" Remy asked mockingly. "_Je suis désolé, mais _y'r a little young fo' me."

Still reeling from everything, on edge from this whole day, and never having had that great of a filter between brain and mouth to begin with, Spencer snapped back at him without thinking about it, forgetting entirely his resolve to be coolly polite. "Don't think so highly of yourself. I was simply trying to figure out what type of kid needs their father to buy them a friend."

The words were out before he could stop them. He didn't get a chance to apologize for them, either. Henri laughed long and loud and Remy's eyes flashed with something heated and just slightly dangerous. "Least mine wasn't after selling me off to be someone's _ami_." He snapped back.

That barb struck home and Spencer flinched back from it. He saw the flash of apology in Remy's eyes and drew back from it, not wanting the teen's apology. He could take it and shove it. Spencer wanted _nothing_ from him.

Jean-Luc cut in before things could devolve any further. "Remy." He said sharply, his tone carrying warning to it. "Dat's enough. Take Spencer up to his room. Henri, make sure dey behave."

The LeBeau patriarch watched as the trio left the room, Remy leading the way and Henri bringing up the rear, with Spencer carefully placed between them. The newest addition to their family looked like he was bouncing between angry and utterly terrified, and really, who could blame him? This whole situation was one giant, horrible mess. How on earth had he let himself get caught up in something like this? When William had first offered up his child—his _child_!—as a payment for his debt, Jean-Luc had been fully prepared to deny him. There was no way he'd take out the man's debt on his child! It had been Mattie's hand on his arm that had stilled his initial reaction. She'd been the one to quietly convince him to accept what was being offered. "I hope y'r right about dis, Mattie." He told her now, looking down at her.  
Taking dat boy away from his family, even with a father as horrid as dat one, it doesn't feel right."

Mattie reached over and patted his knee as if he were just a small child. She was one of the few people who could claim such familiarity with him. "Y' trust an old woman on dis, Jean-Luc. He's a good boy, dat one. He'll learn anyt'ing y' try an teach him, an y'll never have no one more faithful to y'r son dan him. Y' saw de way Spencer looked at him b'fore Remy stuck his foot in his mouth. De ties are already starting. De spirits are pleased with dis."

Long ago, Jean-Luc had learned to respect Mattie's 'spirits'. Whatever they were, they had never steered her wrong. When she spoke it was wise to listen to what she said, no matter who she claimed the information came from. Still, he couldn't help but question now and again. Especially with something like this. "Do de spirits tell y' why?"

She shook her head affectionately at him. "It aint fo' us to question why. Y' know better'n dat." She scolded him. "I don't know why dey wanted dis. I only know what dey tell me, an dat was jus' what I told y'. De boy is Remy's. Dis is de way it's supposed to be."

"I just wish I knew what de spirits have planned fo' m' boy."

"It'll all come out in time. Fo' now, be content. Y' done a good t'ing dis day."

Staring at the door that the boys, _his_ boys, had just left, he hoped that she was right.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I hope it turned out okay. Thanks so much for the favs and comments and such, everyone! I never expected so many people to like this :)_

* * *

Spencer was shocked to find that he slept like the dead. No sooner had his head hit the pillow than he was out like a light. He hadn't even taken the time to look around his room. Once Remy and Henri had dropped him off after their silent trek here, he'd come in and shut the door, locking it behind him, and then had simply collapsed down onto the bed. Sleep had been exactly what his body needed. Now that he'd had a full, uninterrupted night of it, his mind was much clearer. That wasn't necessarily a positive thing. That meant that he couldn't hide from what was happening anymore, not even in the safety of his own mind. Not quite ready to confront those thoughts yet, he pushed off the last vestiges of sleep and opened up his eyes.

The first thing that Spencer noticed when he opened his eyes was that the bed he was lying on was one of the nicest beds he'd ever seen. A four poster bed with curtains tied back at each poster that, if he wanted, looked like he could untie and completely envelope the bed, shutting him away and creating his own little hideaway. They were a gorgeous deep blue color that matched the bedding he was lying on, which was so soft it was Heavenly.

The second thing he noticed was that his bed wasn't the only one in here.

Spencer froze in place when he saw the other bed. It was almost identical to his except that it was styled in reds instead of blues. His painfully alert brain only took a second to recognize the figure bundled up amongst the dark red blankets. He wouldn't have known except for the head of auburn hair that stuck out at the top. Only one person that he'd met last night had that color hair. That was _Remy_ lying over there. Why was he in here? Why on earth were they _sharing a room_? Was this part of being his 'companion'? Maybe Jean-Luc truly had been trying to get someone to be his son's friend. So much so that he was actually housing them in the same room despite the fact that this house looked plenty large enough for them all to have their own rooms.

Panic licked at Spencer's insides. He'd hoped he would at least have his own room here. Someplace that he could escape to and hide from the rest of the house. Somewhere that would be _his_. Apparently that had been just too much to hope for. Not only had he given up his whole life to be here, his pride and his dignity, he was now giving up any chance of privacy as well.

It didn't matter how much his visions and feelings last night had insisted that this was right. That he was where he needed to be, doing what he needed to do. Wasn't he allowed to at least retain something for himself? It felt like he was taking everything he had, everything he was and everything he would be, and putting them into the hands of a teenage boy that he'd never met before and who, judging by his behavior last night, didn't exactly think all that highly of Spencer so far. To make it worse, the biggest part of Spencer was insisting that this was exactly the right thing to do and that terrified him like nothing else.

"_Bon Dieu_, would y' knock it off?" A low, husky voice growled out, startling Spencer so bad he actually jumped.

Pathetically, it took him a moment to realize that it had been Remy speaking, though the teen hadn't moved from his spot in bed. He hadn't even uncovered his head. Furrowing his brow, Spencer looked over to him, wondering just what on earth he was talking about. "Excuse me?" Maybe he was talking in his sleep. That would be just Spencer's luck, wouldn't it, to be stuck rooming with someone who talked in their sleep.

Remy made a sound that was half groan, half growl, and seemed to actually burrow further under the blankets. "Remy can feel y' angsting all de way over here. Knock it off. It's too early fo' dis shit."

What was it about this man that felt so right one moment and put his back up so effectively the next? Spencer _never_ talked back to people. He'd been on the bad end of too many bullies to make that mistake anymore. Yet, just like last night, that filter between mouth and brain seemed gone and he was speaking before he could even think about it, the words tripping past his lips coated in sarcasm. "I'm so sorry. I'm still new at this. I'll try to remember in the future to make sure I'm completely alone before I give in to a panic attack. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you any more than I already have."

This time the sound Remy made faintly resembled a snort. The blankets moved again, though, and Remy's head actually popped out the top. His eyes were heavy with sleep yet startlingly clear even across the room. There was no doubt they were focusing on him. He looked Spencer over with an assessing gaze that was usually only seen on adults. Whatever he saw must've satisfied him because he relaxed again and a hint of humor touched his face. "Y'r a sassy little fucker. T'ought y' was here to be Remy's _ami_, not try an cut him up wit' dat sharp tongue of y'rs."

"This is the first time I've ever been sold into friendship. Pardon me if I'm not sure of the rules here." Spencer snapped back. "I'll make sure to ask your _father_ later to lay it all out for me."

Those were the magic words. They wiped any humor off Remy's face and had him glaring as he sat up in bed. "Y' watch y'r tongue about Papa." The Cajun said sharply. "He aint de one dat did dis. Y' wanna get mad at anyone, get mad at y'r Papa. He's de one dat offered y' up to pay off de debt he was dumb enough to get."

Spencer flinched underneath the sharpness of those words. Something in him, the little part of him that had secretly been hoping that maybe Jean-Luc had demanded this, that he'd been the one to ask, withered away and died. Much as he wanted to believe Remy was lying, there was nothing in his aura that suggested it. Everything about him screamed honesty in that statement. Jean-Luc hadn't asked for Spencer as payment—William had actually offered up his own child. It had been _his idea_. The ache inside of Spencer grew and spread. Knowing that his father had agreed to this had been hard enough for him to deal with. Finding out that it had been William's idea to begin with was devastating. He'd known his father didn't like him. He'd just never thought his hatred had run so deep. Spencer curled his hands tightly into his bedding and fought back the tears that burned at the back of his eyes.

Focused as he was on not breaking apart, he didn't notice how Remy flinched at his own words or how his expression became pained as he saw and felt Spencer's pain. The teen blew out a breath and mentally cursed himself out. When he spoke, his voice had changed again, becoming softer and almost gentle. "_Je suis désolé, _Spencer. Dat wasn't fair. Remy shouldn't have said dat."

Spencer swallowed back the sob that he was ashamed to admit was so close to the surface. "Why not?" He croaked, his voice rough. "It's the truth. Besides, it's not like it's any real surprise. He's wanted to get rid of me since the day I was born." The words came out ringing with fourteen years' worth of bitterness. Unable to just sit there, perilously close to breaking, Spencer pushed himself up off the bed and swung his legs down to the ground. "Excuse me, I need to find the bathroom."

"Right across de hall." Remy said gently.

Spencer hurried out of the room without a backward glance. Behind him, Remy let out a low string of curses and flopped back onto his bed.

* * *

It took almost ten minutes in the bathroom for Spencer to get himself calm and under control. He couldn't help giving in to the tears, though he glared furiously at his reflection afterwards. There'd be no hiding the redness or swelling to his eyes since he didn't have his usual sunglasses. If it wasn't for the cap on his head—which had surprisingly stayed on all night without his hair escaping—he'd use his bangs to hide his eyes. But he preferred to keep his hair covered as often as possible. The only time he'd ever been open about having it down was when he was home alone with his mother. Even around his father he always made a point to put one of his hats on.

Spencer took a bit of time with his appearance before he came out. Checked his hat, made sure his hair was tucked inside, splashed some cold water on his face to try and at least take away some of the signs that he'd been crying, and he straightened out clothes wrinkled from being slept in. Who knew if his stuff had been brought over? Once he was all put together, he made himself leave the bathroom and venture out into the house. It was sort of tempting to go back into the bedroom. To just crawl into bed and hide out for a little while longer. He didn't want to chance Remy still being in there, though. Not after the conversation they'd had. He still felt just a little too raw on the inside and he wasn't sure he could take any more of Remy's sarcasm or even the kindness he'd shown underneath. Either one might break the fragile control that Spencer had managed to gather.

That left him just wandering, not quite sure where to go or what to do. However, he didn't get far before he ran into someone. He was halfway down the staircase that Remy had taken him up last night when a door just below opened and Jean-Luc came walking out. He caught sight of Spencer almost immediately and a friendly smile lit up his face. It took years off him and made him eminently more approachable. Gone was the serious, calculating man who had spoken with William last night. This man looked younger, happier, more relaxed. He looked like a man at ease in his own home, not someone set to do business, Spencer realized. This was Jean-Luc the person instead of Jean-Luc the businessman, or thief, or whatever title it was he went by.

"Spencer!" He greeted him cheerfully. He stopped at the base of the stairs and waited as the young teen descended. "_Bonjour_, petit! Y'r just in time fo' breakfast. Come on, I'll show y' de way to de dining room. How'd y' sleep last night? Did y' like y'r bed?"

These people were making it extremely difficult for Spencer to settle on one emotion. His brain told him just how angry with them he should be, yet they all kept saying things or looking at him in ways that made it hard to do anything but smile back at them. Off kilter and unsure, he pulled inwards, reminding himself over and over that these people were essentially his _owners_ and not his _friends_. It cooled his voice and left him sounding stiff and formal. "I slept well, thank you, sir."

"It's just family here, Spencer. Y' can call me Jean-Luc." The man offered kindly.

"Yes, sir."

Spencer reached the bottom of the stairs and fell into step beside the man, following as he was led down the hallway and through a door that brought them to a beautiful dining room with a large mahogany breakfast table that was currently being set with trays of what looked to be eggs, hash browns, gravy, sausage, biscuits—just about anything a person could want for breakfast. Mattie was currently setting down what looked and smelled to be a pot of coffee. Remy and Henri were both already there, sitting side by side and talking low with each other. They looked up at the sound of the door opening and there was no mistaking the love on them as they greeted their father. That said a lot about the man and was another point in his favor on the mental checklist that Spencer was slowly building. Jean-Luc very obviously had the affections of his boys. Any fool could see that they cared for him and he for them.

The looks they sent his way weren't anywhere near as reassuring. There was no doubt they could see the way his eyes were swollen as they always got on the few occasions he gave in to tears. Remy winced a little when he saw him. But Henri met his gaze head on, one of the few times in Spencer's life that someone didn't flinch at his multi colored eyes. Then his eyes drifted and traveled down a little and Spencer knew he was looking at the cut and bruise left from the back of William's hand yesterday. Spencer quickly dropped his eyes and busied himself taking the seat that Jean-Luc gestured to, one that put him almost directly across from Remy.

Mattie came round the table, tapping the top of Spencer's head as she passed and startling him. "No hats at de table, chile." She told him. When his wide eyes flew up towards her, she smiled at him. She patted at his arm and slipped down into the chair next to him. "Don't worry none. Y' aint got not'ing to hide in dis house. Aint no one here gonna give y' trouble fo' how y' look."

That was easy for her to say. She wasn't the one that had to live this way. But there was no need to stir up trouble over something as little as a hat. Lifting one hand, Spencer nervously gripped at his hat for one brief second. Then, braced for the worst, he pulled it off his head. The shoulder length shaggy silver hair spilled down around his head, a mess from having been hidden under his hat all night long. Self-consciously, he ran a hand through it, breaking up the tangles and smoothing it back. He gave a small flinch when Mattie patted his arm again. She ignored it and beamed at him. "Much better." She said warmly. "De spirits left deir mark on y'. Dere aint no shame in dat."

"Looks fine t'me." Henri piped up. He flashed a charming smile at Spencer and then surprised him by winking at him. "Matches y'r eyes, anyways. Give it a few years and de chicks will go wild fo' dat. Y'll be unique. Girls like dat."

To Spencer's shock, that was all that was said on that. No one else mentioned anything about his silver hair, nor did they give him the weird looks and stares that he was used to. Instead, they all dove in to their breakfast, trays being passed around and food served up while Henri launched into some story about something he'd done with his friends the day before. They tried their best to make the atmosphere as relaxed as possible for Spencer, even if he didn't realize it, but Spencer was still too caught up in his own thoughts to really relax. Breakfast for Spencer was an uncomfortable affair. He picked at his food, not really eating much of it. His eyes stayed trained on his plate most of the time. He didn't look up, avoiding all eye contact with anyone, and they allowed it.

Head down, he missed it when Remy tried to start to say something to him and was cut off by Jean-Luc, who gave a small shake of his head and indicated for his boys to leave Spencer alone. He could see that the young teen wasn't quite up for conversation yet. They'd pushed him far enough out of his comfort for the moment. The rest could come later, once they talked. The senior LeBeau had a feeling that Spencer wasn't going to start relaxing in any way until they finally got everything out in the open. Even then, it was going to be iffy. His whole life had been taken and turned around and tossed upside down. It was amazing that he was staying as calm as he was. Jean-Luc looked down at the boy who was somehow managing to curl in on himself until he was almost half his size and he remembered a different young boy, years ago, who had been just as scared and just as out of place, only he hadn't hid. He'd sat there with a lifted chin and a defiant, daring light in those devil eyes and a sneer curling his lips, far more cynical than any ten year old had any right to be.

Remy had been an angry, distrustful child. He'd expected horrible things from Jean-Luc because that was what life had handed him. It was what he'd come to expect in his years living on the streets. But underneath all of it had been a scared little boy that Jean-Luc had been able to just catch glimpses of, little peeks behind the hard exterior, and it was that little boy that he'd eventually coaxed out until now, six years later, he had a happy and loving teenager. One who still carried the scars of his youth, just without all the rage and fear. It'd taken a lot of hard work on his part. Plenty of fights, long nights spent worrying, and moments where he'd felt like nothing he was doing was getting through. There had been plenty of times where it'd seemed like Remy was actually trying to find a way to piss him off, to push and push until he snapped. He'd only been testing his boundaries, Jean-Luc knew, trying to find how far he could go and what would happen when he pushed. He had needed to know what kind of reaction he might get for doing something wrong. Eventually, after a lot of work and a few close calls that still made the older man shudder to think about, they'd found their peace.

Something told him that things were going to be quite different with Spencer. With Remy, there had been open defiance, an in-your-face dare to harm him and see what happened. He'd made it clear he had no qualms about bolting at the first sign of trouble and going right back to the life he'd already lived on the streets. Spencer, he wasn't from around here and didn't have the security of a street life that he could fall back on, nor did he show the temper that Remy had. He seemed more withdrawn, everything more internalized. Unlike Remy, who had never known anything but the streets before he came here, Spencer had lived a life for fourteen years with his parents. He'd had a mother and father. Granted, the father was a bastard and it was obvious that his relationship with Spencer had been anything but good or friendly, but there was no telling what his relationship with his mother had been. Still, he'd had a family life, and he'd been ripped away from it, sold off to people he didn't know. That bred a lot of hurt.

It was going to be hard work, getting Spencer to open up to them and to trust them. Looking at the young teen once more, there was no doubt in Jean-Luc's mind that it would be worth it.

* * *

Breakfast really couldn't finish quick enough. Spencer was beyond grateful when everyone finally finished and Jean-Luc requested that Spencer and Henri join him down in his study. Mattie went off towards the kitchens and Remy was sent off to his lessons with only a small complaint registered towards it. Nervous as Spencer was about the coming conversation, he was grateful it was finally happening. Grateful that he was finally going to know what exactly was going on here and what was going to be expected of him.

He found himself once more standing in the room his father had brought him to last night. Their positions were almost identical to how they'd been the last time. Jean-Luc and Henri were side by side, leaning back against the desk. It left Spencer unsure for a moment as to where he should go or what he should do. A gesture from Jean-Luc indicated that Spencer should take the chair that had been Remy's before. The idea of being that close to them and down in a chair while they towered over him was enough to have Spencer's nerves start climbing once more. There was no graceful way to refuse, though. He forced himself to go forward and slip down into the chair. It didn't escape anyone's notice that he pressed himself against the side furthest from them all.

Jean-Luc folded his hands in his lap and shifted so that he could turn to better look at Spencer. The expression he wore was calm and controlled. Solemn. "My intention was to bring y' in dis morning and explain a few t'ings to y'. Y'r old enough dat I believe y' got de right to know about what's happening to y'." He said, watching Spencer carefully with those dark, serious eyes. "However, de more I t'ink about t'ings, de more I'm worrying. So I want to start dis by asking y' somet'ing. How much do y' know about what's going on here, Spencer? What did y'r Papa tell y'?"

It took a little bit of effort for Spencer to swallow down the lump in his throat. What little breakfast he'd managed to get down was sitting like a lead ball in his stomach. "He told me that he owed you quite a debt and I was the only way to pay it off. That you would consider his debt paid in exchange for me, to act as companion to your youngest son."

"Did he tell y' who I am?"

Spencer nodded his head. "Yes, sir. He made sure I knew who you were and what you're involved in. He spent most of the afternoon explaining it."

"Most of…" Henri trailed off, his voice startled. He shot his Papa a stunned look and then turned back towards Spencer with wide eyes. "Spencer, _when_ did y'r Papa tell y' about dis whole deal?"

That lead ball in Spencer's stomach grew heavier. The way that Henri asked that put countless questions in Spencer's mind and he wasn't liking the answers that cropped up. His body tensed in instinctive preparation for whatever was about to come. Licking dry lips, he looked at each face in front of him, seeing the same concern on both of them and the dawning realization that told him they were figuring out the same thing that he was. "Yesterday." He said slowly, turning his eyes back to Jean-Luc. "He told me yesterday."

The slight tightening around Jean-Luc's eyes and the tension that snapped through Henri told Spencer plenty enough. He sat there, numb, watching as Jean-Luc's eyes showed an obvious debate. He wanted to shout at the man to keep quiet. To not say this. Too many blows had been dealt to Spencer already. Too many things, one right after the other, breaking him down. He knew what was coming next but hearing it would make it more real and he didn't know if he could handle this blow. It didn't look like he was going to get the choice.

"Spencer…" Jean-Luc hesitated for a moment as if unsure of what to say. Then he sighed. "Spencer, y'r Papa and I dealt with de contracts fo' dis two weeks ago. Last night was just de final signature. Dis has been planned out fo' weeks, t'ough. We had to have time to properly transfer custody over b'fore he could bring y' down here."

The words hit Spencer as hard as he'd known they would. It felt like the lead ball in his stomach jumped and struck him before sinking down low. It took away his air for a moment. Without realizing it, he pressed a fist against his stomach, trying to combat the ache that sat there. No, no, _no._ He _couldn't have_! Wide eyes were locked on Jean-Luc and the pleading in them broke the man's heart. "He…no. You mean…he knew for, for weeks? For _two weeks_?"

"_Oui_."

Spencer closed his eyes against yet another wave of pain. Two weeks, his father had known about this! Two weeks and he hadn't said a single thing to Spencer about it! He curled in a little, head bowing just enough that his hair sheltered his face. The others watched and ached for him. For just how much weight was being put on those thin shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Spencer." Jean-Luc said softly. In his head, he cursed William Reid over and over again. "I was under de impression dat y' knew and agreed to this."

Fighting back a shudder, Spencer shook his head numbly. He took a deep, shaky breath, forcing it in and out of his aching lungs, and he felt his heart break just a little more. Anything he'd felt for his father, any love or respect that had managed to survive the past fourteen years—or the past twelve hours, especially—cracked and broke, falling to pieces around him, and a piece of his childhood fell with it. A part of the innocence he'd held was gone, broken under the weight of all this knowledge. The only thing that kept Spencer from giving in and curling up into a miserable ball right here in the chair was the tiny bit of pride he somehow still had left. That little spark of strength that had helped him to get through the years he'd already lived and which would get him through the next four as well. Spencer drew on it, gathering it to him, wrapping it around him like a cloak that could protect him from the world. He clutched tightly to it and steadied himself until he could finally lift his chin and open his eyes once more. The two looking on were both amazed and saddened by the very adult look that now smoothed over Spencer's face. No child should look that way.

"What is it you expect of me, sir?" Spencer asked. He dealt best with facts and rules. Those were what he needed to ground himself in the chaos. He needed to know what was expected of him here, what his role would be. Because something told him that the way they use the word 'companion' meant something entirely different than what he might be thinking.

Jean-Luc could see how tightly Spencer was holding himself right now. He was close to the edge of what he could handle but he wasn't backing down. There was a slightly determined lilt to his head, a stubborn lift to his chin. Seeing that, he amended the carefully worded speech he'd had planned and he followed his instinct, opting for more blunt, honest words. "Old Guild laws and customs say dat we can accept y' as payment fo' de debt. By dose customs, I claimed y' not fo' m'self, _mais_ fo' m' son."

"Meaning that your son owns me." Spencer supplied flatly. He had suspected as much.

The man didn't bother denying it. "In de eyes of de Guild and people outside dis house, y'll be considered Remy's. Dere's no getting around dat. To us in de house, we know better. Y'r not gonna be a slave here, Spencer. I know y' won't believe me right now, _mais_ de minute I agreed to take y' in, y' became family, not property, and dat's how I'll treat y'. Dat means y'll get de same treatment m'boys get. We'll get y' started on lessons wit' Remy and his tutor fo' y'r schooling, an wit' Henri here fo' y'r more physical training."

One word in all of that caught Spencer's attention the most. He sat up just a little straighter. "Schooling?"

"_Oui._ We've found it easier to hire a tutor to come to de house instead of sending Remy out to school." Jean-Luc's eyes flicked up to Spencer's hair and then back to his face. "I imagine it'd be de same for you, _oui_?"

"I've already obtained my diploma, sir. Almost two years ago." Spencer said.

He saw surprise on both Henri and Jean-Luc's faces. The senior LeBeau's surprise wiped away to a smile, though, one that looked oddly—proud. "Y' graduated high school when y' were twelve?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, sir. I've actually been looking into colleges lately. But, I suppose…" He trailed off, realizing that this was yet another thing that he was losing here. The plans he'd been secretly building, hopes of finding a good school like Caltech maybe, were gone. At least, so he thought. He hadn't expected what Jean-Luc said next. "We have a good college around here." The man told him, no sign of mockery or anything else in his voice that might suggest he was kidding. "I'll get de information fo' y' to look at, if y' wish."

Stunned, Spencer didn't think before he opened his mouth, blurting out "You'd let me go to college?"

"Of course." Jean-Luc smiled warmly at him. "I'd ask dat y' wait until de new term, t'ough. I'd like y' to get a little settled in here, first. Get a little of y'r training going. Being Remy's offers y' a bit of protection, at least in de eyes of some, _mais_ at de same time it puts a bit of a target on y'. I'd feel better about y' going out to college if I knew fo' sure dat y' could defend y'rself if needed. Do y' t'ink y' can agree to dat?"

Learn a bit of self-defense, how to protect himself, in exchange for being allowed to attend college, something he'd desperately wanted for the past two years? Spencer didn't even have to think about it. He sat up a little straighter and nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

Jean-Luc's smile grew. "Wonderful."

This definitely hadn't been what Spencer was expecting when he'd come in here. He hadn't thought that they'd be so nice or that they'd care so much about what he wanted. He'd thought for sure that he would find himself a slave here to the teenager he didn't know and who he found both friendly and annoying all at the same time. Instead, he was being offered his dream. _College_. Sure, it was being dangled in front of him like a carrot, enticing him into behaving. Spencer was stupid; he saw that. But really, it was a rather fair, a bit of training in exchange for the schooling he wanted so desperately. He could live with that. _Four years_, he reminded himself. All he had to do was survive four years here. Then he'd be an adult and free to do what he wanted. Until then, he was stuck here, and it was obvious there was no getting out of it. Why not make the very best of the situation he was thrust into? If he could get some schooling out of this, get a degree or two, it would give him something solid to build on when it came time to go. And whatever 'training' they offered him could only help. Besides, his father had made it clear to him just how powerful this family was and how many enemies they had and it wasn't hard to believe when Jean-Luc said that being Remy's put a target on his back. Learning how to defend himself seemed both practical and logical.

He pushed down the feeling of _right_ that his other senses almost purred at him at the mention of being Remy's. He didn't belong to anyone. People could _own_ other people anymore. He was just…curious. There was no harm in that.


	3. Chapter 3

_I know, I know, it's been a while and this chapter isn't very long. I'm sorry! I'm caught up in my other storyline. But I haven't forgotten this one I promise!_

* * *

For Spencer the rest of the day passed rather quickly. He spent most of it with Jean-Luc, getting a crash course on Guild history. Spencer found his initial discomfort at learning about a group of organized thieves fading away as he truly got into the history of them. Knowledge of any kind always fascinated him and it wasn't hard for him to lose himself in the rich and varied history that the Guild held. When Jean-Luc handed him some books, suggesting that he familiarize himself with them, Spencer happily took them back to his room and set up in his bed. Losing himself in them was a welcome distraction from the thoughts that kept trying to plague him and yank him down. So long as he didn't think about certain things—his father, this whole deal, the visions and feelings he'd gotten when he met Remy, his mother, wondering if he'd ever get to see his mother again—he could handle this. He could pretend, in a way, that this wasn't permanent. That his father had just sent him here to learn and study. He would've had to leave home for college, right? This was sort of the same thing. He'd be learning things here even if it wasn't the type of thing he had thought he'd learn.

So far he'd managed to avoid Remy. After their little moment in the bedroom this morning, he hadn't really wanted to talk to the teen. The urge to avoid him had only grown stronger after some of the things Spencer had learned this afternoon. Jean-Luc had openly explained to Spencer just how exactly he was going to be viewed in the eyes of the Guild. It was a lot for a kid to take in. For all intents and purposes, to the eyes of the Guild he was now Remy's _property_. Remy owned him. A lot of the views the Guilds held on this were dated back to a time when slavery was still considered acceptable. To them, everything that Spencer did, everything he had, was going to be Remy's responsibility and at his whim. He'd be responsible for making sure Spencer was cared for with food, shelter, and other necessities. It also meant that any mistakes that Spencer made, not only could he get in trouble for them, Remy would as well. Anything that Spencer did wrong would reflect on his new 'master'. People in Spencer's position had once been trained in various areas. Either as companions, platonic or sexual, as advisors, as house slaves, or as bodyguards.

Jean-Luc had made sure to reassure Spencer that none of this was going to be expected of him. The training they wanted him to go through was going to be for his own safety, not because they wanted to establish him as any specific role for Remy. They were going to tell people he was simply a companion, a friendly one, for a teen who had few people within his age group, and Jean-Luc assured him that was all they'd ask.

That train of thought helped Spencer to make it through his first day. The night, however, was a different story. He'd outrun his thoughts of Remy through the day, avoiding thinking of the teen or of anything that he'd seen at that first meeting.

He couldn't outrun his dreams.

They came to him that night with the brightness that signaled a _Dream_ instead of a simple dream. Bright flashes of images, moments in time, played one after the other and all out of order, showing him a glimpse of what could be, what might be, and Spencer was powerless to do anything but watch and feel and ache.

The dreams taunted and tortured Spencer through the night until he woke, gasping and nauseous, in the early morning light. He shot straight up in bed with a cry caught in his throat and his whole body slick with sweat. It took a moment and a few gasping breaths before he realized that it hadn't been the dreams that had woken him. It'd been the sound of someone knocking on the bedroom door. He only realized that when the knock came again and then the door opened. Still caught in that place between dreams and waking, the young teen could only watch as the door opened and Mattie came in. The elderly woman looked at Spencer like she wasn't the least bit surprised to find the youth drenched in sweat and shaking in the middle of his bed.

Mattie calmly shut the door behind her before turning and making her way to the bed. Spencer just sat there, frozen, watching while she came up and took a seat right on the edge of his bed like it was perfectly normal. As if she'd done it countless times before. Her eyes, when they locked on him, held the weight of power that he'd noticed when he'd first met her. It reached out to the part of Spencer that was still throbbing from his dreams and he swore he could feel himself breathing just a little bit easier. As if she'd been waiting for that, Mattie nodded. "Y' been Dreaming." She said, her tone clearly putting the capital 'D' on dreaming, leaving no doubt just what kind of dreams she meant.

Was there any point in denying it? This strange woman that he barely knew seemed to reach out to him in ways he hadn't felt from anyone else. That part of Spencer that was still growing insisted to him that she was trustworthy. Someone that deserved both his trust and his respect. So far, that part had never steered him wrong, and right now it was the only part of him that seemed able to function with the Dreams still tugging at him. It had him nodding in answer to her statement.

Her eyes were kind as she nodded back. Folding her hands in her lap, she let him have his space, seeming to recognize that touching wasn't going to be allowed yet. "I know a t'ing or two about dreams, chile. Would y' like to tell ol' Mattie what dey were?"

He knew what these dreams were. Trembling, Spencer wrapped his arms around his waist and held on, holding himself as tightly as possible. The images of his dreams were still so bright and clear in his mind .What he'd seen when he first met Remy had been what could be. Things that could happen, with the right choices made. The dreams last night... "It was Remy." He whispered, looking up at Mattie's compassionate eyes. "All of it was clips of Remy. His life, if I'm not there. If I walk away from him."

"De spirits showed y' de possibilities. Dey showed y' what could be, either way, so y' can make y'r choice." Mattie said sagely.

"I can't change all of it." Where the words came from, he didn't know, but he felt the truth of them. "Even if I'm there, some of it can't be changed."

"_Mais _some can."

Another shiver ran down Spencer's body. "Why _me_?" Wide eyes turned pleading. "What's so special about me, Mattie? I'm not anyone important!"

"Y'r absolutely important, Spencer Reid, and don't let me hear y' say ot'erwise." Mattie snapped sharply. Then her tone gentled and she gave him a look that held a note of pity to it. "I don't know why de spirits picked y', petit. Some people, dey're jus' destined fo' t'ings. Y' and Remy are two of dose people. _Mais,_ only if y' choose, petit. Dat's what de spirits are giving y' here. A choice."

"If I choose no?"

"Den when y'r grown an ready, y'll go y'r own way. Y'll still be a part of dis family, t'ough. Dere aint not'ing dat's gonna change dat. We aint gonna turn y' out, Spencer. Y'r ours now."

"And…and if I accept this?"

"Den y'll do what needs to be done."

He thought of the things that he'd seen, both before and last night, and he thought of the differences between the two. The life that Remy lived in either possible future. "I'd need to train. Really, honestly train." He said lowly, the words almost reluctantly pulled from him.

"_Oui_." Mattie agreed. "Y'll need to stay wit' him, too. Don't let him go off alone. Y'll need to be wit' him, always. What y' saw is what happens if he goes it alone. Dere are gonna be t'ings dat're gonna be different de minute y' cast y'r lot wit' his. Trouble dat y' might not know is coming till it's too late. T'ings dat aint gonna wait years fo' y' to train up proper. Y'll have to work fast."

A cold hand gripped at Spencer's stomach, twisting it in knots. Doubt and fear rolled around in there in a nauseating mix. "I don't know if I can do this, Mattie."

"Y'r stronger dan y' t'ink, chile." She said soothingly. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, rubbing gently. "De spirits, dey wouldn't give y' somet'ing dey didn't t'ink y' could handle. Y'r strong. Y' got a smart mind and a good heart, Spencer."

No one had ever had such faith in him before. No one but his mother had ever believed him strong or capable. He'd always been told what a failure or a freak he was. Yet here Mattie was, telling him that she had faith in him and his strength, that these spirits she believed in did as well. The young teen soaked up the words that he'd so rarely heard before. They gave him the strength to make the only choice that he saw in front of him. "What do I need to do?"

* * *

The downstairs was oddly quiet when Mattie made her way into the dining room. She found the LeBeau family all there, just as she'd known they would be. They'd all been there already when she'd announced that she was going to go check on their absent member after Remy had told them of Spencer's seemingly rough night.

Three sets of eyes shot up to her as she entered the room and each one of them carried concern. Seeing that had her wanting to smile. Good. Two nights here and the teen upstairs had already managed to worm his way into the hearts of these men. His story had touched them all right from the start; a boy sold off by his own father, a father who seemed to have very little care for his boy at all. Then he'd come and been so strong, yet so sweet and shy, bearing up underneath an amazing weight, taking on more and more. Now, this. He was burdened underneath the weight of last night's Dreams, but he wasn't broken. Nor would he be.

Mattie ignored Jean-Luc and Henri for the moment. Her eyes found Remy's and held him firmly. "He's awake now." She told him. "An he needs y'."

"Me?" Remy looked surprised by that.

There was a slight limp to Mattie's step when she made her way to the chair. Mornings like this, with just that hint of a nip in the air, always left her hip aching. She rubbed at it as she lowered herself into her chair. "_Oui_, Remy. _Y'_. He's y'r partner, aint he? Brought here to be y'r companion." Settling in, she lifted her gaze again and looked to him once more. Her next words were just slightly heavier with the small bit of power that she claimed. Power that was nothing in comparison to the boy upstairs. "He's as much y'r responsibility as y'r his, Remy LeBeau. Dis aint a one sided t'ing. He'll use de Sight to protect y', _mais_ y'll need to protect him in turn. Heavy Dreams like last night take a lot out of de body and de soul. He's gonna be tired an a lil emotional. Dat's when he needs y' de most. De t'ings one sees, de aint always pleasant, an he's got a tender heart. He needs y' to be steady and strong fo' him until he can find his balance again."

Remy nodded solemnly. "_Oui, _Tante." Out of all the family, he had always been the one to take her words the most seriously. She didn't know what it was, or what he'd encountered in his years on the streets, but something had left him with a healthy respect for those with power and Sight. He would be a good companion for Spencer.

She smiled kindly at him, her expression softening. "Go, den, petit. Take him somet'ing to drink an a lil somet'ing to fill his belly. Try an coax him to eating, if y' can. He was a bit nauseous when I left him."

"_Oui_, Tante." Remy repeated. He was up on his feet, quickly gathering a plate and putting a few light items on it such as toast and a bit of eggs. With that, he snagged an empty glass, presumably for water. Items in hand he made his way out of the room, pausing only long enough to lightly kiss the top of Mattie's hair, making her smile and swat at him. Laughing, he darted out the door, and Mattie settled back in her chair. For better or worse, things had begun. They were together. Now, their safety was in each other's hands, and in the hands of the spirits.


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter is very, very short compared to how I normally write them. I'm sorry for that, m'dears, but I wrote it and then realized that I should've put this on the end of the last chapter, and it doesn't fit onto what I have for the next chapter. So, instead of just going back and adding it to the last, you guys just get this small little filler bit. Sorry about that :P But the next chapter should be up soon, so don't worry! You'll get more :D_

* * *

After Mattie left the room, Spencer spent a few minutes simply trying to gather his composure and calm his racing heart. Dreams like that always left him feeling far too shaky for his liking. The fourteen year old wasn't one to wear his emotions right out there on his sleeve normally and he hated the open and raw feeling he was left with after nights like this. Usually he hid out when this happened until he could steady himself once more. Or he went and curled up with his mother for a while. She was always understanding after nights like these. Even when she was having one of her bad days, she still would let him close. She always let him close even at the times that she wouldn't let anyone else near her. A part of her seemed to register Spencer on some level or another, or at least the calming sensations that he always tried to project when he got close to her.

Thinking of his mother had Spencer's heart clenching. How was she handling this? Changes to her routine were so hard for her. Not to mention it was Spencer who usually kept her on that routine. He'd been the one to figure it out and map it all out and make sure they stuck to it once he found how much easier it made life for her. Would William keep up with it? Would he get someone to care for her and help make sure that everything went okay? That she took her meds on time? That she ate and showered and all those other important things?

The nauseous feeling in Spencer's stomach grew worse and he curled up a little tighter in his bed. To his embarrassment and annoyance, more tears burned at his eyes, and he quickly tried to blink them back. He was fourteen years old, not a baby! He was not going to lie here and cry about all of this. He would _not_. Yet despite his firm insistence, the tears still tried to build. Between what he'd seen in his dreams and now his thoughts of his mother, he couldn't quite seem to find the control he'd been striving for before.

Of course, that had to be the moment that the bedroom door opened.

Spencer ducked his head down quickly and drew the blankets up just a little more until he was mostly hidden underneath them. The last thing he wanted was to see anyone or to have anyone see him. Couldn't they just leave him alone? Maybe, if he was lucky, it would just be Remy coming in to get something or change or some other little thing that would only keep him in here a moment before he left again. Then Spencer could be alone and free to take the time to find his control once more without an audience. But luck wasn't on his side. When had it been lately? Footsteps made their way towards Spencer and then the young teen felt the bed dip down as someone sat down. Stubbornly, he stayed under his covers, curling in just a little tighter. A second later Remy's voice curled low and warm around him. "Spencer? Cher? I brought y' up somet'ing to eat. Tante t'ought y' might be a lil hungry."

Oh, God. He didn't know if he could handle seeing Remy right now. Not after those dreams. Not after seeing the things that Remy would live through, the things that he would suffer without Spencer there by his side. The clarity of his dreams was starting to fade—which, according to Mattie, was normal. No one needed a definite picture of the future—but they left behind some images, impressions, and strong senses of pain and heartache. Those feelings swamped him now and he curled in a little more as if he could make himself into a small enough target that the emotions would somehow go away and leave him alone. Behind him, he heard Remy make this sort of pained sound, one that reached down into Spencer and had a part of him demanding to fix it. He didn't have to do anything, though. The bed shifted a little and suddenly Remy's weight was right there, the bed dipping down at Spencer's back, and a long line of heat pressed up behind him.

Spencer's reaction was instant and immediate. He jumped and then started to scramble, trying to yank himself away from the other body in the bed at the same time as trying to untangle himself from the blankets that suddenly seemed to be trying to hold him prisoner. He didn't hear Remy calling out his name but he did feel as an arm hooked around his waist and a leg was flung over his. With the blankets still over him, this hold effectively pinned him down, preventing him from being able to do anything. There was this strange rasping, whimpering sound around him that Spencer didn't realize at first was coming from him. A voice sounded nearby, right up by his ear, so hard to understand at first past the sounds spilling from him and the pounding of his heart. It took a bit for the sounds to start to make sense to him. "…be okay, cher. It's okay. Remy aint gonna hurt y'. _Mais_ y' need to calm down, y' hear, Spencer? Y' need to calm down and den Remy can let y' go. Thrashing round like dat, y' was only gonna hurt y'rself. Just calm down an Remy can let y' go if y' want."

The panic that Spencer had felt started to slowly fade as he took in a few shaky breaths. The major part of Spencer wasn't at all used to being touched like this, held like he was a scared child. The only person who had ever held him was his mother and that was often him curling up against her side, or resting his head on her hip, listening as she would read to him. No one had ever climbed into bed and pulled him in close and tight like this. There was no sexual component to the touch, nothing that could be perceived as 'wrong'. It was comfort pure and simple. Spencer felt it radiating off the teen. He felt it in the pulse of Remy's aura meshing against his own. Comfort and a need to take care, a concern for his wellbeing, and Spencer couldn't resist those even if he tried. Without conscious effort he found his body not only relaxing but leaning back into Remy's hold. That clearly told Remy without saying a word to not let go of him.

Remy understood the unspoken message and drew him in a little closer until his back was fitted to Remy's front. His voice continued in that same low, soothing tone. "Dat's it, Spencer. Dere y' go. It's okay. Remy wasn't trying to scare y'. Was just trying to hold y', dat's all."

As much as he hated to admit it, the embrace had actually soothed Spencer down some, which left him a little mystified. Touch had never worked to calm him down before; not with anyone but his mom. Most of the time when someone touched him it wasn't with nice intentions. Years and years of being bullied at school had left him with that mindset. So why was he now relaxing back against Remy? Upset, still feeling raw inside, and now off kilter, he lashed out, using the only thing he had to defend himself with—words. "Do you often cuddle up to fourteen year olds?"

Instead of bothering him, his cutting words actually seemed to relax Remy a little. The older teen squeezed him briefly and huffed out a soft laugh against his hair. "Y' gotta be feeling better if y'r already biting at me. Don't worry bout y'r virtue, cher, y'r a lil too young fo' Remy. Besides, Belle would kick Remy's ass fo' stepping out on her."

That name—it triggered something in Spencer's mind, flashes of images and emotions, and he gave a full body shudder. The clarity was quickly fading but there was a feeling of foreboding that came to him and pain, so much pain, all for the man pressed up against the back of him. There was something about her, something in Remy's future, and whatever it was it was going to hurt. A lot. Whether it was her hurting him, or him hurting because of her, or something happening to her that hurt him, Spencer just didn't know. Mattie had told him that these kinds of far reaching visions wouldn't stay clear with him. "Dat'd drive y' mad, chile." She'd told him. "Dese kinds of visions, dey fade quickly, _mais_ dey'll come back when y' need dem, when de moment is dere. Or y' might not see dem at all. Dis was a glimpse of what could be wit'out y'. If y'r dere, den t'ings might not happen de same, so de images aint gonna be dere, y' understand?"

His shudder was felt by his companion. Remy immediately dropped any teasing and started up that soothing murmur once more. Again, Spencer found himself soothed by it despite himself. This time he didn't try to fight it. He let Remy soothe him, let the safety and presence of his companion wash over him until he was melting into the bed and his eyelids started to grow heavy. Held safe, Spencer drifted off to sleep with thoughts of different futures, of fates and destinies and what-could-be floating around in his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Neither Spencer nor Mattie spoke of their conversation that morning. Whatever had been said between them was kept private. As was their conversation that happened later that day. For a few hours after she left the first time, Spencer stayed in his bed, curled up with Remy. It took him those few hours to piece himself back together again from all the things that he'd seen. By the time he woke up again, with Remy still curled around him, his mind had sorted what little remained of those visions, leaving him feeling a little more like normal. There was just one thing that was different for him. When he woke, there was no more wavering inside of him. He'd committed himself to Remy and to whatever cause this was the minute that he'd asked Mattie what he'd have to do. When his mind cleared from the visions, his resolve settled in firmly, something that he would come to hold on to over the years tighter than he'd ever hold anything else. He didn't know it at the time, but protecting Remy, caring for him, keeping him from the things that Spencer had seen, it would become one of the single most important things in his life.

The two got up for lunch, Remy coaxing Spencer out and downstairs. After the meal, Mattie stole Spencer away and he spent the afternoon sequestered with her in the backyard, having the first of many long conversations about his powers. For the first time Spencer was free to ask someone all the questions that he'd always held inside. Mattie didn't know everything, and she put a lot of stock into 'spirits' that Spencer didn't believe in, but he could sift through it enough to draw his own answers and conclusions.

There was one very high point in his day for him, however. It was after dinner that night that Spencer worked up the courage to ask Jean-Luc if he could call home and speak with his mother. Shyly and very hesitantly, the opposite of the little spitfire that Remy had seen so far, the young genius had bit his bottom lip and snuck a look up at Jean-Luc before asking him, "Is there any chance I can make a few calls back home? I know it's long distance and I promise you, I'll find a way to reimburse you for the cost…"

"Spencer, I'm not going to charge y' fo' making phone calls." Jean-Luc cut in, reassuring him. He looked uncomfortable, though, stirring at his food in a way that suggested he didn't want to have to look up at him, and Spencer quickly found out why. "However, y'r Papa, he asked dat y' wait a week b'fore calling home so he has time to get y'r Mama settled. I understand she's…not well."

To his surprise, Spencer didn't look the least bit upset by that announcement. In fact, he waved a hand almost dismissively. "No, no, I don't want to call _her_. Father's right with that. She needs time to settle in to the idea of me not being there. If I call now, it'll only make it more difficult for her to make the adjustment. No, I need to call Mrs. Maxine and see if she can stop by for a little while longer."

"Who is Mrs. Maxine?"

Shrugging under the gazes all around the table that had fallen on him, everyone watching him now, Spencer pushed at his own food, tipping his head a little to screen his face with his hair. He focused on Jean-Luc, hoping it would make it easier to answer, trying to pretend that the others weren't watching and listening. "She lives three houses down, on the left. If I'm not going to be around, she comes by to make sure that Mom takes her meds and to make sure that she eats right and gets a shower at least every other day. I told her I'd be out of town for a few days, but now that things have…changed, I need to see if she can continue to stop by for a little while longer until I can figure out something more long-term." His focus turned inward and his voice got a little distant. He barely realized that he was still speaking, most of his focus on his thoughts and not on his words. "The clinic down the road offers help to those that qualify. They'd send someone to the house twice a week to make sure that things are clean and to help her in the shower. I might be able to get Mrs. Maxine to just pop in in the morning and at night to make sure Mom takes her meds. That shouldn't be too much of a strain on her time, and Dad's not all that fond of strangers in the house anyways."

Focused inwards, Spencer missed the amazed looks on those around him, as well as the slightly saddened ones. Mattie and Jean-Luc exchanged a speaking look with one another. To listen to a fourteen year old plot out his mother's care like it was nothing, like this was something he always did, was enough to make the heart clench. Children shouldn't be caring for their parents like that. Especially when the other parent was still in the picture.

Jean-Luc had to clear his throat so that his voice wouldn't show any of his emotion when he spoke again. "Of course y' can make y'r calls, Spencer. Is dere anyt'ing I can do to help? I've connections in Vegas dat might be able to provide us with some assistance."

An immediate denial sprang to Spencer's lips. He fought it back down before it could slip out. Pride had no place when it came to his mother's care. Spencer wasn't stupid; he knew that Jean-Luc could help provide her with far better care than he could arrange. The only question was—at what cost?

Something of that must've shown on his face. Jean-Luc's expression lightened and he gave Spencer a small, sad smile. "Don't worry about de cost, Spencer. I told y' before, y'r one of us, now. De paperwork's all been filed. Y'r a LeBeau now, an we take care of our own. It'd be m' honor to take care of y'r Mama fo' y'."

"Wait a second…" Spencer sat up a little straighter in his seat and his food was forgotten. "I'm a LeBeau now? Do you mean that you've _adopted_ me?"

Jean-Luc nodded. "_Oui_. Y'r a part of dis family now, Spencer. I meant it when I said dat."

"Can I…can I see all of this paperwork?"

The question seemed to surprise the senior LeBeau. Then, making Spencer the surprised one now, it looked like a hint of something that might be pride flashed there. "_Mais oui_. It's always good to see de paperwork y'r involved in. As soon as dinner's finished, we'll go to m' office and take a look at t'ings."

That was exactly what they did. When their meal was finished, Jean-Luc took Spencer down to his office and the young teen sat down and was given every bit of paperwork that had been filed for this. Not all of it was understood easily. Some things he had to file away in his mind to look up later so he'd better understand them. But he understood the gist of it all very well. William and Diana Reid had signed away all parental rights to one Spencer Reid. The fact that Diana's signature was on there didn't bother Spencer at all. He knew how easy it would've been for William to get her to sign something. The two had signed away their rights and signed the adoption paperwork as well. Spencer stared at that bit of paperwork with a stunned feeling in him. Jean-Luc hadn't just taken him in, or assumed guardianship of him like he'd thought, which would've been a simple thing to do. No, he'd _adopted_ Spencer. Not just adopted him—he'd given Spencer his _name_. In the eyes of the law, Spencer Reid was now Spencer LeBeau, youngest son to Jean-Luc LeBeau.

Why that made such a difference to him, he didn't know. Yet it put everything in a slightly different light. Jean-Luc hadn't done things the quick and easy way. He hadn't just taken Spencer on with the minimum of fuss. He'd taken him on, taken him in, and given him the family name. It made his words that spencer was a part of their family seem that much more real.

The loss of his last name should've put some kind of feeling in Spencer. He knew he should've been upset by it. At the least, a little bothered. Yet he looked down at the paper in his hands and he felt a small ghost of a smile grace his lips. Why should he want to be a Reid? It didn't change his connection to his mother at all and it helped to sever his connection to his father. Why should he want anything that tied him to William Reid? The man had _sold him_. The hurt and anger that Spencer felt at that still burned brightly in him. He wanted nothing to do with the man. It seemed fitting that he severed even that small connection.

Spencer carefully placed the papers back together and in their respective folders. When he rose from his chair, he was calm, his thoughts locked inside. "Thank you, sir." He held the folders out to Jean-Luc, who took them and smiled at him. "No sir, Spencer. Jean-Luc works just fine fo' me, remember?"

This time, Spencer didn't brush that off. He flushed a little. "Thank you, Jean-Luc."

The smile he got in return for that was big and bright. "Y'r ever so welcome, Spencer."

* * *

The next day started Spencer's new routine. It started with breakfast with the family, something that Jean-Luc said they always tried to do no matter their schedules. Evening dinners weren't as easy because many of his meetings ran at night, so the family made a point to gather for breakfast. They talked there, exchanging plans for the day, discussing what was done the day before, cheerful in a way that left Spencer slightly stunned. Breakfast back at home had been very different. Usually, Spencer made breakfast for his mother and then spent the next half hour trying to get her to eat it and take the medication that he brought in with it. Once that was done, he'd tend to his own meal. His father was always gone already. Usually Spencer just ate a quick bowl of cereal or some toast while he cleaned up his mother's breakfast dishes. He certainly never spent it chattering away the way that these people did. It was…odd. For his part Spencer just kept quiet and ate his food. Once in a while a question might be thrown his way but they didn't press.

After breakfast, while Remy had lessons with his tutor, Spencer went with Henri to start his 'physical training'. "We aint gonna start on any real training yet." Henri informed him the minute they reached the gym—and was it any real surprise that this massive house had a training gym down in the basement? "Y'r young an y' aint a fighter. De first t'ing we need to do is get y'r body into shape. Once I know what y' can handle, we'll start with de basics."

"I'm not really…I don't really fight." Spencer admitted, beyond uncomfortable with this. He'd always been a talker, not a fighter. This was the one part of his agreement that he found himself the most uneasy with. Logically, he knew the reasons why. Emotionally, it wasn't so easy to reconcile to.

Henri smiled kindly at hm. "Dat's fine. I aint teaching y' so dat y'll go out and start kicking ass, Spencer. I'm teaching y' so dat, when de situation comes up, y'll know what to do. Words are all well and good and dere are times dat y' can use em to keep out of trouble. Papa's good at dat. If dere's a way to talk y'r way out of somet'ing, dat's perfect. But dere's gonna be times dat y'r words aint gonna do y' any good. Times dat dey aint gonna listen to y', no matter what y' say. I'm gonna train y' so dat y'll know what to do if y' ever get in a situation like dat."

It was practical and logical. Still, that logic didn't help him when he was doing yet another set of pushups, or running more laps, or lifting the weights that he was assigned. Henri wasn't a harsh taskmaster, but he was a firm one, and he was a dedicated one. He took his job of training Spencer very seriously. Not even Spencer's young teenage awkwardness set him off. He didn't seem the least bit bothered by Spencer's lack of skill, ability, agility, hell, even a lack of balance. When Spencer grumbled about it, Henri just grinned at him. "I was y'r age once, too, y' know. I remember what it's like to be in a body dat feels like it's all long limbs. T'ough, not as long as y'rs. Y'r gonna be a tall, lanky one, y' wait and see."

The first few days were the hardest. Spencer felt like he had to drag himself up to his room afterwards. Every inch of his body was protesting what he was putting it through. Physical training like this hadn't been a part of his life before. While he was quick on his feet, fast if he needed to be, he wasn't the physical type. Not anything like this. It was kind of embarrassing, actually, to find just how hard his body was taking this. He was a little grateful those first few days that Remy wasn't anywhere near their room when he dragged himself in there—usually after a nice, hot shower to relax his aching muscles.

He and Remy…Spencer wasn't quite sure what they were. Spencer hadn't been lying when he'd told Mattie that he was committing himself to this. But so far the two teens had managed to avoid one another pretty well. By the time that Spencer had been at the house for a month, he'd really only seen Remy at meal times and for a few minutes of private conversation here or there in their room at night or in the morning. Not much of a chance to build up a friendship there. How were they supposed to become friendly at all if they never really saw one another? Not that it was his fault, really. Spencer's days were busy! From breakfast straight through till bedtime, his day was full of all the things he needed to learn, all the things that were _important_. Yet a voice in the back of his mind reminded him that building a friendship of some sort with Remy was important, too. What good was all of his learning and training going to end up being if he and Remy weren't even friends?

Making friends wasn't something that Spencer was good at, though. He didn't really know how to talk to people. He especially didn't know how to talk to his unique roommate. Remy was open, energetic, full of quick humor and ready smiles, always talking or laughing about something. At meal times he was always full of stories that had those around him laughing or smiling. He was just the sociable type. Kind, too. Despite their initial bickering, Spencer had to admit that what he saw of Remy showed that he was a kind person, even if his tongue could get razor sharp at times. He'd turned that sharpness on Spencer a time or two. Not that Spencer had responded any better. What few times they did talk in those random moments when they were alone in their room, the two of them had a tendency to bicker and snap as much as talk, and strangely enough it seemed to Spencer that Remy liked it that way.

Spencer wasn't the only one noticing how little time they spent together. Mattie and Jean-Luc noticed it too and Mattie was the one to propose a small solution that she hoped would push the stubborn boys in the right direction. At the start of Spencer's third week there, she suggested that morning at breakfast that the two teens go out into town. "Y've been here fo' a couple weeks now, Spencer. I'm sure y' wanna take a look around town. Dere's no better tour guide dan Remy."

The idea of getting out of the house and getting a look around had Spencer perking up a little bit. It warred with the part of him that didn't really like being out around people. Biting the inside of his lip, Spencer tried to mentally debate if it would be worth going out. Today was already looking to be a warm day. Sunglasses wouldn't look out of place, hiding his one silver eye, but his hat would seem strange and would probably make him a little too warm. Yet…he could get out of the house. See the town. New Orleans had always fascinated him with all of its history and culture. There was so much he wanted to _see_. So much to learn!

When he looked up, he found Remy watching him with a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "Sounds like fun to me. We been cooped up here since y' got here. Whatcha say about getting out fo' a bit, eh, cher? Might be fun."

How on earth was he supposed to say no to that? Spencer pushed down his own insecurities and tried to summon up a smile. "Okay." Hopefully he wouldn't come to regret it.

* * *

Spencer dressed carefully to leave the house. His sneakers for comfortable walking, a pair of jeans, a long sleeved button up shirt, his sunglasses and, of course, his beanie. Silver hair was quickly and expertly twisted up and tucked underneath until none of it showed out of the hat. The only part that Spencer couldn't hide was his silver eyebrows, but he knew from experience that he could adjust his sunglasses just right to keep people from really noticing too much.

His outfit earned him a strange look from Remy once they got downstairs. Thankfully, the teen didn't actually comment on it. Just arched an eyebrow over his own sunglasses. Not that he really had a chance. Before either of them could say anything, the sound of footsteps had them turning just as Henri made his way into the room. The man was pulling on his coat as he came towards them, making it very clear that he was leaving the house too. "We ready, den?" he asked.

Remy gave him a look that wasn't entirely pleased. "Y'r coming, too?"

In contrast, Henri looked positively _smug_ as he stopped at Remy's side. "_Oui, mon frère. _Papa aint gonna send de two of y' out without a bodyguard, y' know dat. Not till Spencer gets some real training under his belt."

"So why aint he sending a bodyguard, den?"

"Cause I'm y'r big brother and it's a hell of a lot more fun fo' me to come and ruin y'r day." Henri shot back with a grin. He looked over at Spencer and gave him a quick wink before walking between them and towards the door. "C'mon den, boys. Let's go show Spencer a bit of our town, yeah?"

For a second Remy just glared at his brother. Then, with a low snarl of annoyance, he stalked forward, deliberately bumping shoulders with Henri as he passed him. Henri didn't seem to mind in the least. He was chuckling when Spencer caught up to him and fell in step beside him. Sneaking a glance over at Spencer, the older LeBeau saw the look on his face and his smile gentled into something warmer. He reached out and patted Spencer's shoulder, startling him. "Don't mind him, Spencer. He don't really mind. Rem's just got a flare fo' de dramatic. Plus, he was probably hopin' to slip away fo' a bit an see his girl, _mais_ he aint gonna be able to do dat with me here."

"Yeah, cause y'r a damn _connard_." Remy said, slowing enough that he fell in at Spencer's other side.

Henri laughed again. "_Mais_ y' love me anyways."

The two continued their bickering for a little bit as they all walked down the road. Spencer had no idea where they were going, or how far away, or any of that. Where they were was a residential area at the moment. But the boys both moved with the ease of people who knew exactly where they were going and so he just trusted himself over to following them. Oddly enough, though he wasn't fond of being close to people he found that he didn't really mind being set between them, even with them bickering across him. Spencer had yet to really hit his growth spurts and so he was still rather short for his age—he'd been told he looked more ten or eleven sometimes than fourteen—so their bickering literally went right over his head. Instead of being uncomfortable, it left him feeling kind of, safe.

They took him on quite a different tour than what Spencer had expected. He didn't know that Jean-Luc had asked Henri to keep it easy on Spencer, show him standard things that tourists wanted to see. He was hoping to get Spencer comfortable with the town as a whole before he got introduced to the things that locals knew, places where they would risk running into other Thieves or even Assassins. He wanted Spencer's day out to be laid back, without tension or trouble, and he'd known that Remy really wouldn't think that much about it.

So Henri took them down to the French Quarter and gave him a basic, tourist friendly walking tour. It bored the hell out of Remy, who rolled his eyes a bit as they passed by building after building. But even he had to smile a little at the way that Spencer lit up when they stopped at the St. Louis Cathedral. And when they moved to the Cabildo, the two brothers shared looks of amusement at how Spencer was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Remy sure hadn't intended on bringing him here, nor going inside, he couldn't quite resist. Not when this was the most animated that he'd seen Spencer since his arrival. "Y' wanna go in an take a look around, cher?" He asked innocently. Any idiot could see the answer without having to ask the question. Still, it was worth the wide grin that he got in return.

Henri paid their entrance and let Spencer lead the way inside. For his part, Spencer could barely contain himself. He loved history. Loved _learning_. And there was so _much_ in here that he knew, things that he could learn, and he was biting his tongue to keep it all from spilling past his lips. Most people didn't want to listen to him prattle on and on about things. If he'd been here with his mother—no, no, he wasn't going to think about that. He wasn't going to ruin his day. Instead, he pushed that back and let himself enjoy his tour.

* * *

A few hours later the trio was sitting together inside of some small café. Spencer was tucked up in a booth with a burger in front of him, Remy beside him and Henri right across from him. Despite the people that filled the restaurant around him, the young teen didn't feel his usual nerves that came from being out in public. He was too caught up in the rush of what had been a surprisingly good morning and the warmth and happiness in the auras of the two with him. It was strange, just how much he felt around them. Spencer was used to seeing and sensing auras of the people around him. He was used to the little flashes that he got when he looked at people or when he touched certain things. Those were just facts of life since his mutation had kicked in. But never before had he been around anyone except his mother who he could almost constantly sense the way he could Remy. And, in a lesser sense, his brother as well.

Caught up in those sensations, riding the high so to speak, and his attention held by the story that Henri was laughingly telling them, Spencer forgot himself for a bit. For just a short bit, he was just a regular teenager hanging out and enjoying lunch. Of course, it couldn't last. He should've known something would happen to mess it all up.

It didn't happen until they were done with their lunch and making their way outside once more. Remy and Spencer went outside to wait while Henri went up to the counter to pay for their meal. The two teens found a spot against the wall nearby and leaned back against it, watching the crowd pass by in front of them. Spencer unconsciously leaned in just the slightest bit towards Remy, the teen's presence making the crowd a little easier to bear. If Remy noticed, he didn't say anything. But Spencer had a feeling he knew. He leaned in towards Spencer as well until they were bumping one another slightly and there was no doubt that Remy hadn't done it for himself. Still, Spencer didn't comment on it, just accepting the comfort that was offered.

"Well, well, if it isn't Remy LeBeau." A smooth voice suddenly cut in. Spencer looked up in just enough time to see an older teen step out from the crowd, two others flanking him. The teen looked like he'd be close to seventeen or eighteen. His black hair was cut short in a military buzz cut and though he looked to be the same height as Remy, who definitely stood taller than Spencer, this man gave the impression of towering over them as cool blue eyes stared down at them.

Remy straightened up a little and Spencer could feel the tension in the arm that was against his, though none of that showed on the outside. "Joshua." Remy's lip curled up and his tone made the simple name sound like something foul he found on the bottom of his shoe. "What do y' want?"

Those blue eyes flashed briefly and the teen shifted just enough that Spencer saw a hint of his aura, felt as it came close. He couldn't help how he tried to draw back from it. Whoever this Joshua was, he had a presence to him that felt like bugs skittering over Spencer's skin. That minor movement drew Joshua's attention to him and Spencer quickly found himself wishing that he'd stayed still so he wouldn't have to be subjected to the sneering look that was now turned his way. With one sweep of his eyes he looked Spencer over from head to toe and the expression on his face showed just what he thought of what he saw; it definitely wasn't complimentary. "So, de rumors are true." The teen said, his voice dark and amused. "Y'r precious Papa actually went an got himself a pet fo' his boy. Aint dat just _sweet_."

The word pet had Spencer jerking a little, almost like he'd been struck. Immediately Remy pushed off the wall, his shoulder slipping in front of Spencer in a move that was very clearly a protective one. He openly placed himself between the teens and Spencer. "Back off, Joshua."

Amusement danced over Joshua's face. "Protective of y'r little pet, huh? Might be a good idea, dat."

Remy growled and took a step towards the teen. "Is dat a threat?"

"Just a bit of friendly advice." Joshua looked around Remy's shoulder, eyes raking over Spencer once more, settling on the young teen's face with a look that sent chills down Spencer's spine. "Y' never know what people might try to do."

That brought another growl from Remy. The air around them was fair to crackling with temper and threat and Spencer knew this was about to get very ugly, very fast. Then a voice cut through the air, calling out "Is dere a problem here?" and the tension broke as everyone took a step back. Spencer's head shot up and he watched as Henri came walking over towards them with a casualness that Spencer could tell was forced. There was a hint of tightness around his eyes, a bit of fluidness to his moves, all things that Spencer had learned through his life to read to let him know when someone was hiding anger underneath a façade.

Henri walked right up to the group and put himself at Remy's side, one arm coming up to rest casually on Remy's shoulder like he was some prop. It also happened to put him in front of Spencer, as well, a move that he figured was probably deliberate. The older LeBeau looked at his younger brother and cocked an eyebrow. "I can't leave y' alone fo' five minutes, can I, _mon frère_?" Shaking his head, he clicked his tongue at him before turning back to the others. "Are y' still here?"

Whatever was going on here, it was easy to see that Joshua didn't like the idea of taking on Remy now that he had backup. Whether it was just the extra body, or something about Henri himself, Spencer wasn't sure. But the trio quickly faded off into the crowd and Spencer let out a soft sigh of relief as that crawling sensation faded off his skin. Unfortunately, that left room for everything else to sink in. Spencer didn't hear as Remy and Henri exchanged low words in front of him. He curled in on himself, trying to ignore the voice in him that repeated that one word, over and over, taunting him with it. _Pet_. Had he been stupid in thinking that there could be anything good about this situation? Had he been an idiot for forgetting, even for just a moment, that he was nothing more than a _purchase_ to these people, a way to cancel a debt? Well, he'd just been forcibly reminded of it. Joshua had made sure of that. The way that he'd called Spencer a pet, the fact that he even knew about it at all, said a whole hell of a lot about what kind of reception Spencer could expect in this town. He'd thought that maybe he'd have just a few people to deal with, that some might know but that the knowledge would either be restricted, or explained. He hadn't expected to deal with that kind of hostile amusement. It put something cold inside of him.

"Spencer?"

Remy's low voice interrupted his thoughts, bringing his eyes up to the two brothers. The way they were looking at him suggested that this wasn't the first time they'd said his name. Spencer stared for a moment, not quite sure what he wanted to say, what to do, but when Henri opened his mouth to speak, Spencer found himself speaking first. "I think I'd like to go back to the house now, if that's all right with the two of you."

His voice was so cool, so formal, without a hint of emotion to it. Still, it had Remy flinching slightly. "Cher, don't listen to Joshua. He's just…"

"Please." Spencer interrupted. There was a small crack in that word and Spencer had to swallow to get his voice under control once more. Steady again, he repeated "Please."

Henri looked like he wanted to say something. He was stopped when Remy reached out, holding up a hand in a bid for quiet while his face stayed turned towards Spencer. With their sunglasses on, neither could meet the other's eyes nor read what the other was seeing, but Spencer swore he could feel Remy's stare on him. After a moment, Remy nodded. "_Oui_, cher. Let's get y' home."

The happiness from earlier was gone. When Spencer set off with the brothers again, there was no pleasant talk, no easy laughter. There was no feeling of safety or security between them. Arms wrapped around his waist, Spencer walked silently, locked deep in his thoughts, not even noticing the worried looks that were being exchanged over his head.


	6. Chapter 6

For a few days after that incident, Spencer kept quieter than normal and even more to himself. He wasn't rude, he didn't ignore anyone. He simply kept quiet and slipped away when he wasn't needed. At night when Remy would come to bed, he'd find that Spencer was either reading a book and wasn't very responsive to talking, or he'd already gone to bed. In his lessons, he was quieter than before, giving them his undivided attention without saying much at all. But, in his lessons with Henri, he was suddenly much, much more attentive. There was a new determination in him and it showed. It showed enough that Henri moved him on from just basic general fitness to learning some basic defensive moves.

Their little run in out on the street hadn't just upset Spencer; it had brought a few things to light. It didn't take him long, really, to work past the word 'pet'. All he'd needed was time to process that. To remind himself that he'd decided to trust these people, to trust Remy, and to remind himself of the conversation he'd had with Jean Luc where the man had explained how the outside world would view Spencer in comparison to how the household truly viewed him. He'd just needed that little bit to remember and to actually believe it. The fact that the family hadn't pushed him, had given him his space while at the same time finding subtle little ways to let him know they were there if he needed to talk, helped with that. No, what he really learned from this, what stuck the most, was how he'd had to hide behind Remy. The way that Remy had stepped in front of him to protect him.

Ever since that night of dreams where he'd glimpsed the future without him in it, he had committed himself to this life, to protecting Remy. Having to hide behind him just felt wrong. But it had been the only thing to do; he had no idea how to defend himself, let alone Remy. If he wanted to do more than hide next time, he needed to learn, and people weren't going to politely wait around for him to do so. Hence his newfound determination in Henri's lessons.

That didn't mean that it was any easier for him to learn, though. A week after the incident, Spencer was downstairs in the training room with Henri, wondering just what the hell he'd been thinking. He spent more time landing back on his ass than he did anything else. Why on earth was it so hard for him to defend against what Henri was doing? The man was moving slow, trying to make sure that Spencer could see and understand, before picking up the pace just a little, yet each and every time he knocked Spencer down. The young teen was feeling discouraged as he picked himself up off the ground _yet again_, when the sound of the door opening surprised him. His eyes darted over and he found Remy walking into the room. Henri acted like he wasn't there and patiently continued the lesson.

It was the first time that Remy had ever been down here for this and Spencer wasn't sure how he felt about it. He couldn't help but flush a time or two when Henri knocked him down, keenly aware of the dark eyes that were watching from the sidelines. He hated that he was making himself out to look like a fool in front of Remy. He didn't question why it mattered so much. For the most part, though, Remy seemed content to simply watch. Or so Spencer thought.

He'd just hit the mat for the fourth time since Remy's entrance when the younger Cajun finally broke his silence. "Hold on a second dere, _mon frère_." Remy called out, interrupting whatever it was that Henri had been about to say. Pushing off the wall, he strolled towards Spencer, and Spencer wanted to curse him for the deliberate grace with which he did it all. It was a complete contrast to the aching, jerky way that Spencer gathered himself up off the ground and pushed up to his feet. He swiped a hand over his face and pushed back strands of silver hair that had managed to fall free from the ponytail he'd put it in and he watched as Remy came to a stop right next to him.

It stunned him completely when Remy grabbed hold of him without warning. His whole body tensed in preparation for whatever was going to happen, only to find that Remy was just shifting him around, adjusting the way that he stood. "Y'r stance is all off." Remy told him, using one foot to nudge Spencer's right foot forward a little. "It's t'rowing y'r balance off and dat's why y' keep falling back. Y' got to learn to spread y'r weight just right to move and flow. Y' aint got de weight or de muscle like Henri dere does, so y' gotta be light on y'r feet, quick to balance and quick to move."

"I'm _trying_." Spencer snapped. He missed the surprised look that flashed over Henri's face. So far, Spencer hadn't been the least bit surly with him, simply soaking up what Henri told him and processing it silently in his head. The only time he really spoke was to ask a question or to answer one. Otherwise, he was a silent student. To see him snap so quickly and so easily at Remy was a bit of a surprise, albeit an amusing one.

Remy didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. He put his hands on Spencer's hips, turning them slightly. "An dat's y'r problem right dere, cher. Y'r trying too damn hard." Lifting one hand, he tapped at Spencer's forehead. "Less of dis," he dropped his finger down and tapped at Spencer's gut. "an more of dis. Y' spend too much time t'inking about it dat y' miss y'r opportunity."

"So I'm just supposed to somehow not think about it?" That seemed like a recipe for disaster. How was he supposed to know what to do if he didn't think about it?

Apparently satisfied with Spencer's stance, Remy took a step back, giving him one final look over. He nodded to himself as if pleased. Then he lifted laughing eyes up to Spencer and smirked a little at him in that maddening way of his that always made Spencer want to either roll his eyes or growl at him, he was never quite sure which. "Pretty much." Remy said. Then, to Spencer's horror, he fell into a fighting stance and his grin widened. "Don't t'ink, cher. Just react." And with no more warning than that, Remy launched at him.

Spencer twisted away from the initial attack, too stunned to really do much else, but Remy was fast and he was good, twisting on his heel and using his momentum, allowing it to twirl his body into a perfectly executed kick that Spencer just barely managed to dodge. Remy didn't miss a beat and launched another attack, fist flying in a hit that Spencer had a feeling wouldn't be pulled the way that Henri pulled his.

There was no time for Spencer to think. No time for him to try and analyze his opponent or either of their moves. Remy moved way too fast for that. All he could do was respond to what Remy was throwing his way and try his damndest not to get the crap beat out of him. Before too long, he found his legs swept out from under him and his body hitting the mats with a solid thud that jarred his teeth. Usually, this was where the lesson stopped. Henri would come over and help him up and they'd talk or start right over again. It looked like Remy's plan was the same. He pulled out of a fighting stance and came up to Spencer, one hand held out in an offer to help him up. "Y' did a lot better dat time. Y' still can't hit fo' shit, _mais_ y'r fast and y' moved better once y' stopped t'inking. Let's try it again."

Spencer had no real excuse for what he did next. Annoyed with the training, annoyed with continuously ending up down on the mats, and annoyed with Remy for just throwing himself at him like that and for his snarky words just now, Spencer reacted without really thinking his actions through. He waited until Remy got close and then used his speed, the only thing he really had going for him, and swiped a leg up and out, catching Remy right behind the knees. It was more satisfying than it probably should've been to watch him hit the ground hard. He sat up, just a tiny bit smug, only to realize that he hadn't really thought this through all the way. Remy moved faster than Spencer could react to and the young teen found himself once more flat on his back, his body pinned to the mats and an arm pressed over his throat. Red and black eyes sparkled just above his. They didn't look angry, though. They looked—entertained. "Nice moves dere, cher." Remy told him, his tone thick with amusement. "_Mais_ if y'r gonna do somet'ing like dat, y' gotta follow t'rough on it. Y'r sneaky, t'ough. I like dat."

He moved off of Spencer's throat and then pushed up to his feet in one smooth move. When he was standing over Spencer's legs, he held out his hand again, lips quirked up.

A low sigh slid from Spencer. "I'm going to regret doing that, aren't I?" He slapped his hand into Remy's and let the teen pull him up to his feet.

Letting go of Spencer's hand once he was steady, Remy reached out and clapped his shoulder, grinning broadly. "Hell yeah." He took a step back and once more slid his body into a fighting stance. "Starting now."

"Great." Spencer cursed himself and Remy both as he tried to put himself back into the stance Remy had put him in before. Something told him this was going to be a long session.

* * *

There wasn't an inch of Spencer's body that didn't hurt. He swore he could feel every single muscle aching as he dragged himself through the house and upstairs. Remy had spent hours in there sparring with him until Jean-Luc had called him out for something or other. Once he'd left, Henri hadn't let Spencer go. No, of course not. He'd ran him through the usual cool down exercises and stretching and had talked with him about where he'd done better and where he still needed to work. At least that was one benefit that came out of the whole thing. Henri had praised him before letting him go. "Y' did a whole lot better today. A whole lot." He'd told him. Then he'd ruined the nice glow Spencer had gained from that by adding on "It looks like Remy's got a better understanding of how y' need to work. Y' responded really well to him. I'm gonna talk to Papa an see if we can get him in here as y'r sparring partner. Den I can focus on y' a little more while y' two fight."

Great. Just _great_. So he had more days like this to look forward to? The bruises on his body gave an extra throb at that thought. Remy hadn't exactly been gentle.

By the time dinner rolled around, Spencer was feeling better, though a few spots still throbbed. An afternoon spent relaxing with some books that Jean-Luc had given him on Guild history had helped him quite a bit. He didn't feel quite as vindictive towards his newfound friend when he entered the dining room. Any lingering thoughts vanished, however, when he saw the way the table was set. There were a few extra dishes set out and all the dishes were of a much nicer quality than the plain ones they usually used. In the few weeks he'd been here, Spencer had never seen them set things up quite so formally. He was saved from asking about it when Remy and Henri, the only two in the room, looked up and saw him. Henri smiled warmly and gestured with one hand for him to come closer. "C'mon, Spencer. Y'r gonna sit between Remy and me t'night. Papa's got a few potential business associates stopping by fo' dinner tonight."

Potential business associates? Spencer stopped, staring at the table settings and then back up at the brothers. "Maybe I should…"

"Oh hell no." Remy said firmly. Moving forward, he quickly snagged Spencer's arm and pulled him over towards their seats. "If Remy's gotta suffer t'rough dis, y'r gonna suffer right alongside him."

Spencer bit back his grimace and tried to school his expression to something a little more polite.

He'd just reached his chair when the doors opened and Jean-Luc came in, talking to two men who were following in behind him. Spencer's eyes ran over the two men, instinctively taking them in. They looked to be brothers, by his guess, both with the same green eyes and both with black hair, though the one at the back had hair just a bit longer. The one at the back was shorter, just a bit younger looking, but for the most part their features were the same. The line of their jaw, the wide nose, the sharp cheekbones. They dressed impeccably in three piece suits that left Spencer feeling just a little awkward and out of place. He hadn't known they'd be having company and hadn't dressed accordingly for it. The slacks and button up that he wore were simple and his hair was showing, held back by a ponytail. Thank God he had his sunglasses on at least.

Self-consciously he lifted a hand towards his hair, smoothing it back, only to have Henri lightly touch his shoulder and Remy actually reach out and draw his arm down. "It's fine." Henri murmured to him, firmly standing at his side. On the other side, Remy leaned in enough to murmur as well, adding "Don't worry bout it. Let em say what dey want."

Any reply Spencer might've given cut off then as Jean-Luc brought his guests over to the boys to introduce them. "Boys, I'd like y' to meet Carl Tumon and his brother, Kevin. Gentlemen, dese are m' sons. Henri, Remy, and Spencer."

Hearing himself introduced as 'son' did something to Spencer's inside that he couldn't quite label. It warmed part of him and had him standing up just a tiny bit straighter. Jean-Luc was holding up on his end of things just like he'd said. He'd told Spencer that he was like family and he really was treating him like it now. Spencer smiled shyly at their guests and simply lifted a hand to wave when he saw a hand extended his direction.

A business dinner, Spencer quickly discovered, was a whole lot more boring than a family dinner. He hadn't realized just how used to the LeBeau family dinners he'd gotten in his short time here. There was always talk, and laughter, and a relaxed atmosphere that usually left him feeling a little more relaxed inside as well. Not tonight. Tonight, there was a stiff formality in the air, and a current of something else that tickled at the edge of Spencer's senses. It had him tensing up without even realizing it. It wasn't until halfway through the meal when Remy put a hand on his arm and discreetly sent him a concerned look that Spencer noticed just how tightly he was strung. But, why? What on earth was making him feel this way?

Logic told him that there was only one thing different right now compared to their usual dinners. The only thing that wasn't normal was their guests; did that mean that this weird feeling was because of them? Spencer usually pulled his shields up tight around himself to try and avoid reading what he could about people. Practice with Mattie was helping to strengthen those shields. Now, for the first time in a while, he found himself deliberately lowering them. Not much, but just enough to sort of 'taste' the air around him. The minute he did, that something else that had been tickling his senses started to slide over him, hot and thick, and the auras around the men darkened as they came into sight, startling him so badly he actually fumbled his fork a little. It dropped down onto his plate with a _clank_ that drew the attention of everyone at the table. Spencer flushed and quickly dropped his gaze. "Sorry."

"Is everyt'ing okay, Spencer?" Jean-Luc asked him. There was honest concern in his words that might've made Spencer smile at a different time. Right now, he wasn't quite sure what he could say, or how to explain what was going on, especially considering that it involved the two guests who were looking at him right now like he was some bug under a microscope.

Henri came to his rescue. "He's probably just a little tired. We pushed him a little hard in his studies t'day, dat's all." He said, smoothly drawing the attention over to him and then turning it away from Spencer. "Speaking of studies—we got dat shipment of new books t'day, Papa. I was hoping y'd take a look at dem later on with me. Dere's some in dere dat I t'ink y'r really going to like."

While the others fell into the conversation that Henri had started, Remy used their voices as a cover and leaned in close, one hand going to rest on Spencer's knee under the table. "Y' okay, Spencer?" His voice was low, pitched for Spencer's ears only.

Spencer wished desperately that his hair was loose so he'd have something to hide behind right then. His eyes kept drifting over to their guests and the things he saw, the things coming off of them, made him shiver. Without realizing it he leaned in a little closer towards Remy. "They're dark." He murmured back, his voice just as low as Remy's. "They're both so dark. Blacks and deep reds and a dark, dark blue."

He'd never taken the time to explain to Remy about how his powers worked for him. He'd never told him about auras, or what the colors in them meant, or anything. How he saw aura colors was nothing like what he'd researched that other people saw. There was nothing out there that told him what the colors really meant. He just _knew._ But he'd never really bothered to try and explain it to others.

That didn't seem to bother Remy at all. He leaned in a little more, his hand squeezing reassuringly on Spencer's knee. "What else do y' see?"

The soft question prompted an answer before Spencer even realized that he was basically following an order. "There's something not right about them." That was it; the crux of it all. That was what had struck him first about them even before he'd taken a deeper look. There was something wrong here. He tipped his head, trying not to be caught staring, and let him really _look_. When he did, he saw what felt so wrong about them. His voice dropped down even lower; so low, Remy almost couldn't hear it. "They aren't who they say they are and they, they're no friend of your father's. I see…lies. So many lies. And—a raven." The images flashed past, little glimpses into their auras. "A raven and an emerald sword. It's tied to them somehow. No…it's _tying_ them, holding them. Whatever the raven is, it holds them, body and soul."

The hand on his knee froze for just a split second. Then Remy gave another squeeze before drawing his hand back. "_Merci_, Spencer." The teen pushed his chair smoothly back then and rose to his feet, one hand smoothing over Spencer's hair as he went past. "_Pardon, messieurs._" He interrupted them, flashing a rather charming smile. Catching his hand on the back of his father's chair, he bent low and put his mouth next to his ear, saying something too softly for any of them to hear.

Nothing showed on Jean-Luc's face. When Remy pulled back, he looked up and nodded at his son. Then he turned his own charming smile to his guests. "Pardon our rudeness, _messieurs_. It would appear m' youngest is a bit under de weather. Remy, Henri, why don't y' take Spencer up to his room an get him settled in. I'll come check on y' when m' business is complete."

"_D'accord_, Papa." Both boys said. Henri didn't even question it, simply putting his silverware down and starting to rise.

Remy came over, carefully catching Spencer's elbow and helping him to his feet. Whatever was going on here, Spencer was smart enough to catch on to the part he played. He let himself lean in to Remy's embrace just a little bit like he really was sick. It wasn't that hard to fake. His head was swimming a little from deliberately looking deeply at these two and the darkness he'd seen there had left him sort of sick. Mattie had told him that those feelings would ease the more that he practiced his power. She'd likened it to the physical training he was going through. At first, it was going to hurt, a lot, and it was going to leave him aching in so many ways, but with time and practice his mind would adjust and he would train up that 'muscle' so it wouldn't bother him quite so much. She swore one day he'd be able to do a whole lot more with it than he realized without even breaking a sweat. For now, he was still learning, and using it like this with such negative things to look at and feel, he was left feeling worse than he had after his sparring session with Remy. Only this time, the pain and such was more mental than physical, which he hadn't realized was possible.

He brought a hand up to rub a little at his forehead as Remy steered him out of the dining room and into the hall. The door shut behind them and Spencer actually _felt_ some of the tension vanish from his body. He hadn't realized just how much their auras had been affecting him until they were gone and he was slumping down like some heavy weight had suddenly vanished. Remy's arms were there to catch him. His hand slid off Spencer's elbow and around his waist quickly and he easily caught the younger teen's body against his. "Woah dere."

Color stained Spencer's cheeks and he tried desperately to steady his legs underneath him. He did not need to be collapsing like this! Especially not on Remy. "Sorry."

"Aint no t'ing, Spencer. Y' just hold on to Remy fo' a minute, yeah? We're gonna get y' outta de hallway." Remy gave him a soft squeeze and then drew him forward, leading him and his shaking legs down the hall just a little ways. Henri opened a door that Spencer knew led to the library and then the young teen found himself escorted inside and led over to a couch while Henri shut the door behind them.

In short order Spencer was seated on the couch with Remy right at his side. He was a little embarrassed to admit just how much he appreciated the hand that stayed on his shoulder and gave him a bit of strength. His head had cleared enough to allow that familiar sheen of embarrassment to color everything for him. It stained his cheeks as he looked up at the two brothers. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make a scene or anything. Really, I could've stayed in there. You didn't have to bring me out." It wouldn't have been comfortable but it wouldn't have hurt him to stay.

"Hush, Penny." Remy said, patting at his shoulder. "Dat aint why we left, t'ough it looks like it's a good t'ing we did. Dat was hitting y' harder dan Remy realized."

"Why did we leave, then?"

"Cause of what y' was seeing." Now Remy looked up, his gaze obviously drawing Henri over and into the conversation even if his words were still directed at Spencer. "When y' looked at dose two, y' said dat dey was dark, dose two. Blacks and reds and blue, _oui_?"

Spencer lifted a slightly shaky hand and wiped it over his mouth as he nodded. "Yes. It's, those are colors in their auras. Different colors, different shades, mean different things. Sometimes a color can be good until it's combined with other things. Theirs—they were dark." Just thinking of it made him shiver.

Nodding as if Spencer's words made sense to him—Henri, for his part, was paying attention but he still looked slightly confused—Remy gave his shoulder another of those bracing squeezes before he started to rub slightly in a soothing manner. "When Remy asked y' what else y' saw, y' said some interesting t'ings. T'ings dat made more sense dan Remy t'inks y' realize. Y' said dey weren't who dey say dey are, an really, dat aint a surprise, _mais_ de raven y' saw and de emerald sword, dose are t'ings Remy knows."

"Shit." Henri swore softly. He was suddenly much more alert. His body was still, frozen in a state of readiness, but his eyes were hot.

Remy nodded at his brother. "_Oui_. He said it was tying dem, holding dem together." Turning, he looked back at Spencer. "Dere's someone dat we know, his name's Bertrand, which means intelligent, glorious raven. He's a bit of a cocky bastard and he likes going by 'De Raven' on t'ings. He tried screwing Papa over on a deal a few years back an he's been trying to take him down off an on since den."

"He t'inks he can step in an take Papa's place as Guildmaster." Henri added in, lip curling up in a disgusted sneer at just the idea of it.

"_Oui_." Remy agreed. "_Couillon_. He don't realize don't no one want him dere. He's still stuck back in de dark ages. De Guild needs someone progressive like Papa to lead dem into de future, not someone dat's gonna take dem back. De sword y' saw? Sounds like de same one dat everyone says he's got hanging up in his study at his house. He swore to Papa once dat he was gonna run him t'rough wit' it."

Oh. Oh, wow. Spencer could see why Remy had reacted to his words the way that he had. This little bit of information made quite a few things a bit clearer. "They were sent here to spy on your father."

"Most likely." Henri said.

"That's why we came in here, to be safely out of the way." Spencer's eyes went unfocused a little and he bit at his bottom lip, a small tremor running over him.

Feeling it, Remy pressed in a little closer, thinking he was afraid. "It's all right, Spencer. Dey aint gonna come in here after us."

That wasn't it, though. That wasn't it at all. Spencer was oddly unafraid. At least, right now. They wouldn't come in here, he knew that, and he told them that. "They won't come in here. Your father, he's going to let them go. Have them escorted off the property with a message for their master. But it's too late."

Henri sat up a little straighter, leaning in towards Spencer and opening his mouth like he was going to speak, only to be cut off by a sharp look and a discreet gesture from his brother. Spencer noticed none of it, caught up in his own thought. He only barely noticed when Remy's hand slid off his shoulder to curl over the back of his neck in a touch that steadied and grounded him. "Too late fo' what, Penny?" Remy asked in a low, even voice, none of his tension showing through.

"They got what they wanted already. I can't…I don't know what it is. I can't see it." He pushed, trying to stretch this vision that he was only just learning was capable of so much more than he'd thought. The headache that had been building now pulsed in his temples. Bringing his hands up, he closed his eyes and tried to rub at it, tried to push it back. This felt important. "There's something there, I just, I can't see it. I can't _see_."

"Shh, shh." The hand on his neck gave him a small shake and then Spencer found himself being drawn in against a chest that he was surprised and a bit embarrassed to discover was becoming rather familiar to him. He'd been hugged and held by Remy more in these short weeks than anyone else, except for his mother, had done in his whole life. For the first time, he didn't stiffen, didn't even try a token protest. He just let Remy tuck his head down until his nose was pressed against Remy's collar. The ponytail was pulled out of his hair, letting some of it fall to shelter him, and Remy's hand slid up into the rest to lightly hold and rub there. "Hush, Spencer. Y'r pushing too hard."

"Remy…" Henri said softly.

Remy cut him off quickly with a sharp "_Non_." His hand never stopped its soothing movement in Spencer's hair and his voice softened a little, though it stayed firm, sounding far more adult than his years would suggest. "Tante Mattie told Remy dat Spencer's still learning his powers and he'll only hurt himself by pushing too hard. Could feel his headache building, me. He can't see no more and y' pushing at him aint gonna do not'ing 'cept fo' making his head hurt more. De boy's mine and it's my responsibility to take care of him. So either help make sure de hallway's clear so I can get him upstairs, or back off. Y'r choice."

There was a long moment of quiet in which Spencer was secretly grateful. His headache had grown by leaps and bounds and he wanted nothing more than to stay here in the dark and safety. When Remy's arms began to move, he had to fight back the whimper that wanted to slip free. He didn't know if Remy actually heard something or if he was just that good at reading Spencer—or if there was some kind of power here that Spencer still didn't know about—but he seemed to sense that Spencer was hurting and unhappy with the movement and he started to shush him softly again. "We're gonna get y' up in bed, Penny. Y' just keep y'r face hidden and let Remy do de work, _oui_? Don't t'ink y'd let Remy pick y' up, so we're gonna walk real slow on outta here and up de stairs. Y' just gotta put one foot in front of de other and let Remy lead y', _d'accord_?"

He could do that. That was easy. Just one foot out in front of the other. Not trusting himself to nod without his head exploding, he let out a soft "'kay" against Remy's neck.

Their progress upstairs was definitely a slow one. Spencer didn't really pay attention to which way they moved or anything around them. Remy kept him tucked against his side, Spencer twisted just right to still be able to bury his face against him, though it was against his shirt now and not his neck, and he put one foot in front of the other just like Remy had asked. Eventually, Remy stopped them and then he slowly and carefully drew Spencer down into something that felt soft and cool. _Bed. _This was his bed. He burrowed down into the blankets with a soft little sigh. Someone was down by his feet, removing his shoes, and once they were gone Spencer drew them up underneath the blanket and also drew the top of the blanket over his head. He let out a happy sigh as the world around him became soft and muffled and dark.

Without him even consciously realizing it, the first real bonds of trust began to build between Spencer and Remy then. Though neither teen could put it into words, that trust was there. Important things had happened that night. Remy's belief of Spencer's visions and aura readings at the table, taking them seriously and not brushing them off, had been the first step. The way he'd cared for Spencer after had only continued to build on it. He cemented it even more when he got Spencer upstairs and then proceeded to set himself up with a book, and a hidden deck of cards, and he stood guard over his partner while Spencer recovered from the headache. He took care of Spencer willingly, not because he was told or because he felt he had to, but because he wanted to, and Spencer allowed it, not protesting as he would've done with anyone else. He allowed Remy to care for him and in doing so gave him a trust he'd never given to anyone, not even his mother.

As one boy healed and the other stood guard, the threads of their lives started to slowly twine together, the first few strands of what would one day become a bond that nothing would be able to break through.

* * *

_Okay, everyone, I really hope you liked this! This is the start of things. The 'early years' so to speak. This story's kind of broken into parts. Up next is going to be a time jump to a little ways in the future, most likely a few years. If anyone has a problem with that, if you were hoping for more of these early days, please let me know! I might add them, I might just do some fun timestamps, but please let me know. Otherwise, this will pick back up with the time jump a few years down the road._

_Don't forget to at least drop a line and let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed this and I'm sorry it took so long!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay, so it looks like people wanted to see a couple things before we jump forward, so I'm going to do a few more chapters to cover meeting Belle and starting college. As for the guys from last chapter, don't worry, that wasn't the last you'll see them or hear about this! It does tie in more later, I promise. I wasn't going to just leave you guys hanging ;)_

* * *

All things considered Spencer had to admit that it was kind of surprising that he didn't meet Remy's girlfriend until he'd been living in the LeBeau house for just shy of six months. That wasn't to say that he hadn't heard about her. Remy talked about her all the time when they were in the privacy of their room; he just hadn't met her. Then again, it wasn't really _that_ surprising once he stopped and thought about it. Unless they went out during the day with a guard, they were on what Remy had grouchily referred to as 'lockdown'. Jean-Luc had restricted Spencer and Remy both to the house until Spencer was better trained. "Y'r a target out dere, Spencer. People are gonna look at y' and see a way to get to m' Remy." He'd told them. And Remy had surprisingly agreed. Oh, Spencer knew the teen slipped out here and there. He'd seen him do it a time or two late at night, coming back in just as the sun was starting to come up. But for the most part they stayed in this house and things settled down into the easy routine.

Something told Spencer that no one else but him had any idea that Remy had been sneaking in and out of the house. He had a feeling that Jean-Luc would've put a stop to it if he knew. But Spencer hadn't told on him. Their friendship was still in its early stages yet and he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize it. Much to his surprise, he was finding that he was really coming to like Remy. Not just him, either, but the whole family. And they seemed to like him too. They never once treated him as anything other than a part of the family. Jean-Luc acted like Spencer had always seen other kid's parents act. He looked out for the boys, all of them, made sure they were safe and happy and healthy. He talked to them, laughed with them, and he made sure to try and draw Spencer into almost everything they did. Even when Spencer just stayed quietly in the background, Jean-Luc still made a point of bringing him in.

Spencer had no idea what it was like to have a sibling, but he sometimes thought that maybe that was what he was gaining with Henri. A big brother. The man teased him to no end, picked on him, defended him against Remy if he felt the need, trained him, and he sure acted like he cared. A part of Spencer still worried that that's all this was—an act. But he was slowly letting his guard down.

Brotherly wasn't how he'd describe his relationship with Remy. Really, he didn't have any words for it. He didn't know how he'd describe it. They sparred together. Some nights, Spencer helped Remy with his homework, tutoring him through the few places he got stuck, and in return Remy helped him with learning the Guild history and the sets of rules and protocols that Jean-Luc said he had to know. He helped teach him customs, how he should act around high ranking Thieves, what would be expected of him. They also talked a little, about themselves. Spencer didn't often speak of his past and Remy seemed to respect that. He did talk, though, about what he wanted to do with his future, about the booklets for college that Jean-Luc brought him, and Remy encouraged it, fully supportive. Just as Spencer was supportive of Remy and his quiet relationship with Belle. It was why he'd so far let them get away with sneaking out to see one another.

Only, tonight was different. Tonight, close to the six month mark since Spencer had moved in, there was a feel in the air that had Spencer on edge. He wasn't the only one, either. Before Mattie left that morning, she made a point to pull Spencer aside. "Dere's somet'ing goin' on today, petit."

"I know." Spencer murmured. That weird sensation was prickling along his skin just on the edge of his senses.

Mattie nodded at his confirmation. "I t'ought y'd be feelin' it too. Dere's somet'ing dat's gonna happen. I can't stay close today; Suzie's gonna have dat _bébé _b'fore nightfall an she's gonna need me dere. Y'r gonna have to keep y'r eye out. An don't let Remy outta y'r sight, y' hear! Wherever he goes, y' go. I already warned Jean-Luc." Reaching out, she pulled Spencer in for a quick hug. "Watch over him."

"You know I will." There was a simple honesty in his words. He'd made a commitment to protect Remy, to look out for him, and that promise only grew stronger in him with each passing day.

He hugged her back briefly before letting her go. Once she was gone, Spencer wasted no more time in going to find his friend.

It really wasn't that hard to stay with him through the day. Jean-Luc made it simpler by making sure that they had combined afternoon lessons, the both of them studying old Guild treaties to 'better understand our laws'. It wasn't until nightfall rolled around that Spencer realized keeping an eye on Remy might not be so easy.

Just shy of ten p.m., Remy started preparations that Spencer had become all too familiar with. The young genius looked up from his book and watched as Remy changed into one of his nicer shirts. One that he'd told Spencer once that Belle liked on him. He was slipping out to see Belle. Immediately Spencer folded his book down into his lap. "You're slipping out tonight."

Remy didn't even look over at him. "_Oui_. Gonna meet _ma chere_ fo' a bit."

"Does it have to be tonight?"

Now that question was enough to have Remy looking up. He'd gotten to know Spencer well enough to know that he didn't just ask idle questions. Curious, the Cajun cocked his head and looked at Spencer searchingly for a long moment. "Is dere somet'ing y' wanna tell me, Spencer? Have y' seen somet'ing?" He had a great respect for any of Spencer's visions. More than anyone Spencer had ever met.

"No." Spencer said slowly. He _hadn't_ seen anything; not yet. It was just… "There's just, something in the air. I don't know what it is."

Remy regarded him carefully for a moment longer before turning back to his dresser. He started to add things to the pockets of his jacket. "Remy'll be fine, _mon ami_. Y' worry too much. Dis Cajun knows how to take care of his'self."

"If you won't stay, then take me with you." Spencer blurted out.

Surprise flashed over Remy's features. Then it melted away to that amused smirk that still triggered the need in Spencer to either growl or smack the teen. "Listen, Spencer, we want a lil alone time, if y' catch m' drift."

Spencer furrowed his brows for a moment before realization settled in. It flashed across his face, followed quickly by a hint of embarrassment and then the disgust that only the youth show for those carnal acts. "You mean sex."

His blunt words had Remy rolling his eyes. "Why don't y' say it a little louder, cher? I don't t'ink de neighbors heard y'."

"Why would I want the neighbors to hear me?" Spencer asked curiously.

This time Remy rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder he didn't give himself a headache. He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head. It was too easy to forget that Spencer didn't often get the finer points of sarcasm. He spoke plainly and expected the same in return. Remy tacked on 'sarcasm' to the list of things he had to teach the kid. "Never mind, Spencer. De point is, I don't need y' along fo' dis. I aint exactly into having an audience. So y' just stay here, read a book, go to bed, whatever. I'll be back b'fore de sun comes up."

Spencer sat up a little straighter, his chin coming up in a gesture that the whole LeBeau family had quickly coming to recognize as his stubbornness kicking in. "Mattie said I'm not to let you go off anywhere alone."

That actually had the young Cajun pausing. If there was one thing he'd learned in his years since being adopted into this family it was that Mattie's orders weren't to be taken lightly. She knew things, felt things, and Remy had grown up living on the streets where he'd been taught a healthy respect for people like that. If she'd made a point of telling Spencer to not let Remy go off anywhere alone then it was probably for a damn good reason, even if she hadn't seen fit to tell anyone what that reason was. But…he didn't want to take Spencer along with him while he met up with Belle! The kid was, well, a _kid_, for one, and he had barely six months training under his belt. He probably couldn't even get out of here quietly, let alone move as quietly as Remy did to get to his meeting spot. He was still in the awkward stage of growing an didn't always seem to know quite what to do with his long limbs. He'd probably get them busted in an instant. Remy couldn't just skip out on going, though. Not just because he wanted to get laid—he was a teenager, for God's sake, of course he wanted to get laid—but because Belle wasn't exactly the most laid back of women and she'd take it out on his ass if he just left her there.

Spencer could practically see the thoughts as they crossed Remy's face. Just as he could see when the teen finally settled on his decisions. The tension in Spencer's spine lessened a little before Remy even spoke the words. "_D'accord_." Remy said, slightly grudgingly. "Remy'll bring y' along. _Mais_ y' better not get him caught, y'hear? Or dis boy's gonna kick y'r ass."

The threat didn't scare Spencer as it once would've. Remy might get a little rough in their sparring but the young teen was coming to realize that Remy wouldn't really hurt him. Not intentionally and not maliciously. It was a wonderful thing to be so sure of.

Smiling, Spencer scrambled up off the bed, putting his now closed book on the nightstand. Remy watched him and shook his head. "_Merde._ Must be _couillon_, me." He mumbled. Then he gestured at Spencer with one hand. "Get y'r ass over here, Penny. We're gonna at least get y' dressed so y' don't stand out like a sore fuckin' thumb."

* * *

Their escape from the house was surprisingly easy. Remy had been impressed with how quietly Spencer moved. It also helped to have someone who could read auras and sense the presence of other people. Using that, it wasn't hard to avoid anyone who might be watching. They'd actually made it out of there quicker than Remy usually did. From there, it didn't take them long to get to this little hideaway. Spencer stayed a mostly silent shadow behind Remy the whole way there. It wasn't hard to do. His friend had helped to dress him, making sure to give him a look that wouldn't draw attention but that would enable him to keep hidden. His pants were black, normal for him, and the t-shirt he had on was a simple green, but over that Remy had given him a special sort of dark blue sweater to wear. The sleeves had holes for his thumbs to slide through, ensuring that the sleeve would stay down. It not only had a hood, it also had a built in muffler that he could pull up over his mouth to hide his face even more. Because of the hood, Spencer opted not to wear a hat, simply tying his hair back out of his face, but he did make sure to slip on his sunglasses. It was rare for him to go anywhere without them.

Thirty minutes after they left, they were slipping through the back door of a tiny little house that Spencer hadn't even known existed. According to Remy, it was Henri's, often used for the same reason that Remy was going to use it tonight. It was secluded, out of the way, no one knew about it, and it made for a perfect place to slip in with someone without anyone knowing and slip back out again.

Spencer knew before they even stepped inside that someone was already there. He knew, though, without even having to see, just who it was. Slipping in the door behind Remy, he shut it carefully and then turned to get his first glimpse of Bella Donna Boudreaux.

She was pretty, he thought to himself. Nothing real special, but pretty. Blond haired, blue eyed, in good shape. The type of girl that probably turned heads all over the place. Even dressed in just plain blue jeans and a t-shirt, sprawled out on the couch, she gave off the image of beauty—and trouble. That, more than anything else, was what came through to him. _Trouble_. This woman was going to be a lot of trouble. Spencer looked at her as she pushed up off the couch and rose gracefully to her feet and for a moment he saw a flash of something there. Something, like a hint of white—a dress? A white dress. And…tears. There had been tearstains on her cheeks. Not happy tears, either. Tears of pain, of anger. Spencer blinked his eyes and the images were gone just as quickly as they'd come. The crying woman was replaced with a smirking teen who was looking over at him with one eyebrow arched and an expression that was full of mocking amusement. "So, not only are y' late, y' brought an _ami_ wit' y' too, huh cher?" She slipped up close to Remy, pressing herself against him and splaying one hand over his heart in a gesture even Spencer could see was meant to be possessive. "Aint y' gonna introduce us, Remy?"

Remy looked down at her with a fond sort of exasperation. Rolling his eyes, he flashed Spencer a smile. "Don't mind her, cher. She t'inks she's being clever. Spencer, dis is m' Belle. Belle, dis is Spencer. He's playin' at guard duty t'night."

Her smirk grew a little. "Oh! So dis is y'r new pet everyone's buzzing bout."

That term didn't get as much of a reaction as it had used to; still, it was enough to make Spencer flinch internally. He didn't like hearing it and Remy knew that. "He aint no pet, cher. Quit trying to rile de boy." Remy warned her.

Sharp blue eyes ran Spencer over from head to toe. Her gaze was bright and assessing and left Spencer feeling like an animal on an auction block. That feeling only got worse when she turned her face up towards Remy and gave him her best smile. "I like him. He's cute. How much y' want fo' him?"

This time Spencer wasn't the only one to tense. Remy's body snapped taunt and he glared down at her. "He aint fo' sale."

"Are y' sure? He seems much more suited to my work dan y'rs. He looks s' sweet an innocent an shy, aint no one gonna suspect him till it's too late."

One of Remy's hands suddenly gripped tight in Belle's hair, forcing her head back so that she was staring up at his face. "De boy is mine." He snarled lowly, a curl of deep green snaking through his aura, giving his words an extra layer of possessiveness. Without taking his eyes off Belle, who was smirking up at him, he said "Spencer, go on an wait outside, jus' like we talked about. I'll come fo' y' when I'm done here."

"Ooh, Remy, so commanding!" Belle purred. She pressed in against him, hands fisting in his shirt, and she let out a smoky laugh even as Remy pulled her head back even more.

That was most definitely Spencer's cue to get out of here. Without having once said a word, he ducked back out the door and closed it behind him. There was no one close that he could sense yet he still tried to move as stealthily as possible as he went to the end of the yard to the tree that Remy had pointed out to him. It was cloaked in enough shadows to provide cover for him and was far enough away from the house that he wouldn't have to listen to anything he might not want to hear. At least, that was the plan. Spencer quickly discovered as he settled himself down onto a nice thick branch about halfway up that sound carried far more than he wanted it to. He wasn't old enough to understand that the volume of the moans and laughter coming from the house was intentional. He didn't understand the games people play. He didn't even realize there was a reason for the game; the idea of Belle being jealous of him, of her wanting to assert her claim here, never even crossed his mind.

He tucked himself far back on the branch, braced against the tree, and pulled his hood and muffler up so that he was almost a part of the shadows. It amused him a little to look at himself right now, perched in a freaking _tree_ to stand guard over someone that he had promised to protect with his life, someone he had only known for almost six months. If someone had told him about this all those months ago, before he ever came here to New Orleans, he would've shaken his head and thought them crazy. Him? Scrawny, geeky, awkward Spencer, the one that no one wanted to talk to? The one that people jokingly said would was the only person to trip over thin air?

Training with Henri and Remy was teaching him to use his body in ways he hadn't ever thought possible before. Sure, he was still awkward a lot. He wasn't quite yet fifteen; his body still had a lot of growing to do. But he had gained a lot better balance and a lot better control. He was even learning more and more to defend himself. Sure, he was still getting knocked to the mats, just like in the early days. But even Remy was telling him that he was improving. Henri had told him "Y'r getting good. Dat brain of y'rs just seems to soak it all up. Y'r only problem is dat y'r holding back. Until y' learn to let go and let y'rself move, until y' can stop being afraid of what y'r gonna do, y' aint never gonna be ready."

Yeah, right, just stop being afraid, huh? Spencer didn't know if he could do that. He knew Henri was right, too. That fear was holding him back. But he didn't _want_ to hurt anyone. Sure, he'd defend himself if he had to, and he'd defend Remy, but a part of him wanted to still be able to exist in the world where he could defend with words, not with fists. He wanted to pretend just a little longer that he could protect his friend without having to hurt someone.

Even with his clairvoyant powers, Spencer had no idea just how much that thought would be put to the test tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

Spencer didn't have a watch on him, so he had no way of knowing how much time had passed since he'd taken up station in this tree. What he did know was that the house had gone quiet a few minutes before. That had to mean they were almost done, right? Oh, who was he kidding? He had no idea. He didn't _want_ to know. What they were doing in there and how long it took was none of _his_ business. The only part that concerned him was how long he was going to have to sit out here and even that wasn't that big of a concern. That sensation of something being off was still plaguing him and he knew he wouldn't have gotten any rest whatsoever if he'd stayed at home. Much better that he was here, where he could keep an eye on things. Once Remy was done, then he could get the teen home and get him somewhere safe. Somewhere protected.

He ran his eyes over the area around him while at the same time scanning with his senses the way that Mattie had been trying to teach him. She'd been trying to show him how to open himself up to the 'aura and energies' of the world around him and use that to keep watch for people. "Y' can see someone's aura if y' let y'rself. Y' feel dem." She'd told him. "Y' can use dat. If y'r guarding him, y' can use it to watch fo' dishonest people. People dat might be a threat. _Mais_ y' can use it to look out fo' people, too. If dere aint supposed to be no one around, sensing de aura of someone comin' close could save y'r life, an his."

It wasn't quite as easy as he'd hoped it would be. Opening himself up this way felt strange. Not at all like what he was used to. Mostly for this part of himself Spencer was used to trying to shut it down. He didn't really _want_ to see the aura of everyone around him. He couldn't always control how in depth he saw there. Sometimes it was just colors, moods. Other times he saw bits and pieces of them, their past, present, or their future. He didn't want that much personal information about people.

But tonight he was using it deliberately. He was keeping an eye on the surrounding area to make sure that no one got close to them. And it was a damn good thing he was, too. There was a presence coming in close and Spencer couldn't see nor hear it, but he could _feel_ it.

Dark. So very dark. All the colors in the aura were dark enough that they were almost black. They didn't just flow around the person like most. These colors poured over him, dripped off of him in a thick, nauseating mix that Spencer instinctively recoiled from. The closer they got, the worse it got, and they were getting awfully close. There was no doubt now that the person was coming towards this little house. Their route would bring them right past Spencer within forty three seconds. He had that much time to make a decision and then to brace himself. Really, was there any decision to be made? Later on it would occur to Spencer that he hadn't even hesitated. He hadn't even thought of any other route but this one. With a deep breath, he timed himself, and then very carefully grabbed the tree branch and dropped down to the ground when the visitor was just a few feet away.

It was just a little bit satisfying to see the way the person stopped and took a quick step back. Their brief moment of shock gave Spencer a split second to look them over. Not that there was much to see. Black boots, black pants, black top, face shielded by a scarf, another scarf tied around his head like a bandana. The only real part that showed was a pair of deep, dark blue eyes.

The man recovered quickly, moving from a defensive position to an offensive one, something that Spencer wouldn't have recognized six months ago.

Spencer held his hands up quickly, trying to show peace. Words were always his first choice and he tried to employ them now. "Woah there. Let's just relax and take a moment here. I don't want any trouble."

The man let out a low laugh. "Oh, but I do."

That was all the warning Spencer got. Before he'd even finished the last word, the man was launching forward and Spencer had no more time to think, no more time to try words. All of his focus was just on _surviving_. This was nothing like Henri's steady training, or even Remy's rougher sparring. This was all out, no holds barred, fighting to _win._ The man threw punches that definitely weren't pulled and he fought with the clear intent to take Spencer out as quickly as possible and with a skill that Spencer was nowhere near to matching. It was taking everything Spencer had to defend himself. Then the man moved, quick as a snake, and Spencer found himself slammed into the tree and pinned.

It was the shine of the knife that told Spencer he was in some serious trouble. He should've known, right from the minute he saw the man's aura, but there was a part of Spencer that still wanted to think the best in situations. That wanted to believe that there weren't people out there who would kill so easily—or who would enjoy it the way he had a feeling this man would.

The knife glinted in the moonlight and Spencer saw the colors around the man shift, pleasure growing stronger, the thrill of the fight and the arousal at the prospect of death, and Spencer _knew_, the way that he just knew things, that this man would happily kill him before going inside and killing Remy and Belle. There was every chance that the two inside could fight him off, and win. But Spencer wasn't going to let it get that far. The part of Spencer that he had always held back, the one that didn't want to hurt, the one that tried to insist there was always another way—that part faded away underneath the instinct that every human being possess, the one that's made to _survive_. But mostly, it was pushed away underneath an immense wave of protectiveness. A certainty that he _must_ protect the one he'd pledged himself to. The one he'd sworn to keep safe.

First things first, Spencer drew in a breath and let out one short, sharp whistle, a warning to the one he was protecting. Then he struck with a speed and determination that momentarily startled his partner. One knee up, catching the guy's thigh, while at the same time he slammed his head forward and connected their foreheads together. It left his own head ringing but it loosened the hold on him enough that he could shove the arm off him and strike. What happened next came so fast that Spencer never saw it coming. All of it seemed to happen at once. He pushed forward, the guy stumbled a little, the door to the house swung open, and the man struck. A line of fire burned across Spencer's bicep.

He cut off the cry in his throat and struck out again with another kick, his free hand cradling his injured arm. The man absorbed the blow, knocked back a step, and Spencer saw as his head snapped over and he realized that they weren't alone anymore. Not just that, but that he was outnumbered three-to-one now. It took only a second for the decision to be made. The guy drew back and then spun on his heel and raced off into the dark. Spencer didn't bother going in pursuit. Hand clenched over his arm, he slumped back against the tree, chest heaving a little as he watched the man seemingly melt into the shadows.

Thankfully, Remy didn't try to go after the guy, either. If he had, Spencer would've had to follow him, and he really didn't want to try doing that right now. Instead, the Cajun made a beeline straight for Spencer, with Belle right on his heels. "Spencer!"

The young teen looked up as his friend got close and tried to dredge up a smile for him. "You know, when Henri taught me that signal, it was supposed to be one to use so you'd know to _get away_, not come charging out."

"Yeah, well, Remy aint never been good at doing what he's told, _oui_?" Remy joked. There was a hint of worry underneath his words, though. He was already looking Spencer over the best he could in the dark and Spencer realized that the angle he was standing prevented Remy from seeing his arm. "Are y' hurt anywhere, _mon ami_?"

Lying wasn't exactly an option here. Not when he was bleeding all over himself and his arm was on _fire_. Huffing out a breath, Spencer turned himself just enough to bring his arm into the light, showing where he was clutching at his bicep. Immediately both Remy and Belle were there. Belle didn't hesitate to tear the coat a little more so they could see underneath while Remy carefully pulled Spencer's hand back. The two took one look and then Remy was pressing Spencer's hand back over it firmly. "Keep pressure on dat."

Not that he'd been planning on doing anything else. He resisted saying that, though. "Is it deep?"

"Deep enough." Belle answered bluntly. There was none of her earlier animosity or snappishness present now. She was looking at him with something that might've been called soft on any other woman. Then it was gone and she was all practicality once more. "It's gonna need stitches. Keep pressure on it and try to slow de bleeding till y' get to de hospital."

Immediately Spencer straightened up. Wait, what? "I don't need a hospital."

One of Remy's arms slipped around Spencer's waist and he found himself being led forward. "I aint up fo' doing stitches on dat and dere's no way in hell y'r running home fo' Henri to do em. De hospital's just down de road."

"But Remy, your Dad…"

"It's fine, Penny. Don't y' worry." He gave Spencer's waist a gentle squeeze and steered him towards the right, turning out of the darkened area and onto an actual street. "Getting y' taken care of is more important dan Remy gettin' in some trouble. Jus' hush now."

He wasn't given any more chance to protest. They were out by the streets now and Remy was already hailing a cab. The best Spencer could do was trust himself over to Remy and hope the young Cajun knew what he was doing.

* * *

It didn't take them long to get to the hospital. The cabbie wasn't exactly happy about having a bleeding man in his backseat but a little extra money overcame any worries he had. Remy kept beside him the whole time, never once letting go of him, and Spencer was grateful for it. He really didn't want to go to the hospital and he spent most of the trip trying to convince Remy it wasn't necessary. "It's really not that bad." He insisted as the lights of the hospital came into view. "I've had worse, Remy, really!" Once when he'd been trying to run home from school he'd slipped at the broken fence and sliced open a deep gash on his leg. That had ended with some pretty serious blood loss, stitches, and a night spent in the hospital. It wasn't an experience that Spencer wanted to repeat.

Remy wasn't moved, though. "Y' need stitches, Spencer, and y'r gonna get em professionally. Y'r still bleeding. Y' wanna get home an have me spend de night worrying about blood loss?"

The urge to tell him yes was pretty damn strong. Leaning heavily on Remy as they climbed out of the cab, Spencer was extremely tempted to tell Remy yes, he'd handle Remy's worry if it meant they didn't have to go in here and deal with this. Hospitals were one of Spencer's least favorite places to be. Not only did he have to put up with stares from people who saw him without his usual props to hide behind, he also had to deal with those in the service industry that seemed to believe being prejudiced against mutants was an all right thing. On top of all that, there was so much life and death inside of a hospital, so many futures shifting and changing. Auras that would come through in low, sick colors, or bright, emotional ones. Futures hung on a pin, ready to fall one way or the other with a word from a doctor. And all of it was in such volume that it was hard for Spencer to 'tune it out'. Before he'd come to live with the LeBeau family, Spencer's powers had been more intermittent, not always 'on', as he thought of it, but crowded places like hospitals or malls or such like that were always so full of people and such that whatever natural shields he had tended to get overloaded and his senses would get stuck in the 'on' position. Since he'd been here and his powers had gotten stronger, he was terrified that was going to be even worse than normal.

He didn't really notice how much he was leaning in to Remy as they made their way inside. His friend was pressed up beside him, one arm around his shoulders, and Spencer was content to hide in that embrace. But then the lights changed from dark to bright and Remy was calling out to someone above him. "Ey! We need a little help over here!"

Spencer had shut his eyes against the light but he snapped them open now as he heard people rush forward. "What happened?" A nurse was asking, gloved hands already reaching for Spencer's arm.

"We was racing home and he took a fall down de hill. Don't know what he hit, _mais_ it sliced open his arm." Remy lied glibly.

Someone took hold of Spencer and he felt himself being pulled out of Remy's embrace and away from the safety of his hold. The world spun a little and Spencer was grateful when he was pushed to sit down on a bed. It made the dizziness easier to handle. Only, he was seated and no one was bringing Remy over to him. Remy wasn't there at his side anymore. The idea of being in here without him was enough to set Spencer's heart racing. That panic only got worse when he looked up, trying to find Remy in the crowd, and all he saw was a sea of medical staff and random patients all wrapped in a maelstrom of colors that made his head ache and spin even more. Images, colors, little bits and pieces of these peoples' lives. It was too much. The girl in the chair, holding the hand of an elderly lady who was lying on the bed in front of her—she'd be planning a funeral before the day was over. The guy getting patched up over on the far bed—his wife was going to have twins. The nurse to his right—alcoholic. The receptionist at the ER desk—beat his wife.

Hands settled on Spencer's jacket, unzipping and trying to draw it off him, and that was the last straw for the young teen. A pained, terrified sound broke free from where it'd been lodged in his throat and he did the only thing he could think of—he called for the one person here he knew would keep him safe. "_Remy_!"

All signs of the maturity that usually sat in the fourteen year old were gone. In that moment, he sounded younger than his years. A terrified child seeking the solace of someone he knew would make it better. He could've sobbed with relief when Remy's familiar figure pushed forward through the people around him. Spencer lifted his hand, not even thinking about the fact that it was covered in his blood, and Remy didn't hesitate to grab it. He caught Spencer's hand and held on while slipping around the nurse that tried to step in his way. "Hey, hey." Remy said, his voice low and soothing as he sat right down on the bed at Spencer's side. He kept hold of him with one hand and wrapped his other arm around Spencer. "It's all right, cher, Remy's right here. Y'r all right."

Later on, Spencer might be ashamed of the whimpering sound that broke free. Right then he didn't give a damn. He fell into Remy's hold and buried his face against Remy's neck. His whole body was shaking and he knew he was scaring Remy. He couldn't bring himself to explain what was going on, though. He just hid there against Remy's neck and let the teen handle things.

Someone must've tried to get him to move because Remy's arm tightened around him and his voice changed from the low, soothing tone he'd been using to something sharper and firmer. "_Non_." He said to whomever had dared try to get him to move. "Y'r terrifying de hell outta him. Remy aint going nowhere. He's just fourteen, mec, an he's scared." There was a low pause and then, his voice even sharper, "Don't y' talk about legal shit. Y' wanna get fuckin' legal, den _legally_ he's m' brother. M' underage brother. An until Papa gets here, Remy aint going nowhere, y'hear? Now why don't y' all quit y'r damn yammering and try actually treating de boy b'fore he bleeds out, yeah?"

Apparently they either backed off or Remy just wasn't bothering with them anymore. He turned his attention back to Spencer. The arm he had around him shifted enough that they could finish getting Spencer's coat off and then Remy's hand was in his hair, scratching at his scalp and lightly holding him in place so that he didn't have to move away from his hiding spot if he didn't want to. Spencer soaked up the attention. He focused on the warmth of Remy's presence against him, around him, allowing it to block out everything else.

"Spencer." Remy's voice was a soft murmur against his hair. Though Spencer didn't move, he did focus on his voice as Remy continued to murmur to him. "De doctor's in here now, petit. He's gonna numb y'r arm and den get it all cleaned up an stitched up, _d'accord_?"

Spencer didn't speak, but he did give Remy's hand a squeeze to let him know that he heard him.

The two stayed curled up together as the doctor began his work. Spencer shut down almost completely. He felt the sharpness of the needle when his arm was numbed but the rest of it was a hazy blur. He lost himself in the warmth of Remy's colors as their auras meshed together. Remy always seemed to have such warm colors around him. Spencer liked to look at them sometimes. He knew that sounded silly, which was why he didn't ever plan on admitting that out loud. He wasn't dumb. He wasn't going to put himself out there to be teased. Enough people in his life had already called him a great big girl. If he said that he liked seeing the pretty colors that made up Remy's aura, he'd never hear the end of it.

Spencer rode in a daze through everything. Held close to Remy, he didn't whimper anymore, didn't make a sound as his arm was numbed, cleaned, and stitched, or even as they put the IV in. It wasn't until someone tried to move Remy that Spencer stirred once more. Even then, it was just to cling tighter to his friend and try to burrow in even closer.

The hand in his hair started to scratch lightly once more and Remy's other hand, which was still tightly held by Spencer's, gave a reassuring squeeze. "It's all right, Spencer. Hush now, Remy aint going nowhere."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we need to get him back to a private room." Someone said nearby. "He's lost a lot of blood for someone his size and he needs fluids and rest."

Remy didn't let go of him. "Den y' point us in de right direction and Remy'll get him dere."

"I can't let you do that. Now, either let go of him, or we're going to call security."

"Y'll do no such thing." Another voice said, firm and sure. This was a voice that Spencer recognized, though, and he found himself actually relaxing a little just at the sound of it. Jean-Luc was here. He would take care of things. It surprised Spencer to realize just how much he believed that. It wasn't just a random feeling, either. It was a certainty in his chest. Jean-Luc was here and he would take care of everything.

There was a bit of movement and then Spencer felt Jean-Luc's presence up beside him just seconds before a hand carefully smoothed over his hair. "Spencer? Petit?"

Spencer didn't unbury himself to answer. He didn't have to. Remy did it for him. "He's all right, Papa. Don't t'ink he likes dese places, me. Been hiding out against Remy de whole time."

"Mattie warned me he might be having problems. She said in a crowded place like this, he can't help what he sees. He's probably using you to hide from the rest of it."

For a second Spencer was afraid that Remy would pull away. He shouldn't have worried, though. Remy's grip actually tightened just the slightest bit. "Den Remy definitely aint going nowhere. We getting him in a room, Papa, or getting him home?"

The doctor and medical staff were being completely ignored now as Jean-Luc and Remy talked over Spencer's head.

"Home." Jean-Luc said firmly.

There was a bit of shuffling that Spencer imagined was the doctor. He tilted his head just enough to peek past a bit of hair and watch as a man in a lab coat stepped up to Jean-Luc, who was standing right in front of them. "Excuse me, sir, but I really have to protest. It's my recommendation that your son spend the night here. The wound itself isn't that bad, but he's lost enough blood that I'd like to monitor him overnight. He needs fluids and plenty of rest."

"All of which he can get at home." Jean-Luc said. "And much better dan he'd get here. I'm not insulting y'r hospital, Doctor. However, my son is unique, as is his situation, and I believe an overnight stay at the hospital would do more harm than good. He needs to be at home with his family where we can care for him in de way he needs. Besides, I highly doubt y'r going to be able to separate him from Remy right now. So why don't y' and I step over here and y' can tell me what I need to do to care fo' him, medically, while Remy and de nurses get him ready to go?"

Things happened rather quickly after that. There was just something about Jean-Luc that seemed to inspire obedience in the people around him. He was a natural born leader. Years of leading the Thieves Guild had only refined that in him. Everything about him just radiated control and authority. His bearing, his voice, that sharp stare of his when he made a point. All little things that added up and left people following his directions as if they were orders, sometimes without even realizing it at first.

In short order Spencer found his arm wrapped up with a bandage, his IV removed, and he was dressed once more. He kept close to Remy the entire time, never once breaking complete contact with him, and he tried to keep his head bowed away, too, not wanting to see anything else around him. It wasn't a perfect solution, though, and he found that out when it came time to stand up and he finally had to look up to make sure that he stood okay. He'd tipped his head just enough to look down to the ground, intending to keep his eyes on the ground only. It didn't work out the way he wanted. They'd just moved into the main part of the ER when someone moved in front of them, cutting them off, and Spencer looked up instinctively. That was all it took. One split second and he found his gaze caught in images and colors.

Spencer rarely ever spoke to strangers about the things that he saw about them. Not only did it usually not go over well, it felt strange and invasive, like he was caught peeping at someone while they were changing. But when it was something good, something positive, he always had such a hard time resisting. When it was good, and for a child, there was no resisting at all.

Patting lightly at Remy's hand on him, Spencer stepped away from his the safety of his friend for the first time since he'd latched on earlier and he slid forward, past the two people in front of him, right up to the young girl who was sitting hunched over in her chair. She was small, just a young thing only five years old, and she was utterly terrified, clutching the stuffed bunny in her arms like it was the only thing keeping her together. She was so very afraid and Spencer couldn't ignore that; not when he knew she had no reason to be. He went right up to her and, tucking his injured arm in close and ignoring the bruises, he squatted down in front of her. Sad blue eyes looked up at him for a second before they dropped back to the floor.

"Hello there." Spencer said softly to her. She didn't say anything, but he didn't let that deter him. His heart led him as he smiled kindly at her. "My name's Spencer. And you, you're Leslie, right?" Ah, now, there was a bit of life in those eyes, a hint of surprise. Spencer's smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. Lifting his good hand, he touched the leg of the bunny, tapping it with his finger. "And this is Mr. Bun, right? Hello, Mr. Bun." He shook the stuffed bunny's hand, smiling at him like he was really greeting him, and then moved his smile up to Leslie, who was now looking at him instead of the floor. There was a spark of curiosity in her eyes now, just like he'd hoped. "How'd you know our names?" She asked him.

The accents that could be found in New Orleans were slowly becoming familiar with Spencer the more time that he lived here. There were so many of them, changing dependent on where a person was from, even what part of town. He couldn't help but think that the slow, thick drawl she had was the most adorable he'd heard.

"I could see it." Spencer told her in answer to her question. Lifting a finger, he tapped at his temple. "Sometimes I just look at people and I see things about them. When I looked over here, I saw you. You, and Mr. Bun, and your Mom." He tipped his head then, looking up at the woman who had just noticed someone talking to her daughter.

Leslie looked slightly awed. "You _saw_ us?" There was no disbelief in her tone. Children were always so quick to believe the things that adults would question.

"That's right. I saw you guys over here, looking so very sad, and I thought to myself that, well, that just wasn't right."

"M-My sister, she got hurt by a _car_." Leslie told him, her voice cracking a little and her eyes dropping down to her bunny. She squeezed the stuffed animal tighter. Her mom reached out, putting a hand on her daughter's back, and she cast a sharp look at Spencer, very obviously ready to tell him to back off.

Spencer ignored her. He kept his attention focused on the little girl, not her mother. "That _is_ sad. But would you like to know something?" He paused, waiting for her nod, and then he leaned in a little like what he had to say was some big secret. Not only did Leslie lean in, her mother did as well, the woman ready to stop him if needed. Spencer smiled at the both of them. "Your sister's going to be just fine." He told her, whispering the words as if they really were a secret. Once more he reached up and tapped his temple. "Trust me. I _know_."

The girl's face lit up in a way that warmed Spencer's heart. With the complete and utter faith of a child, she latched onto his words and the hope they gave her. "Really?" Eyes wide, smile bright, she looked up at her Mom. "Mama, did you hear that?"

"I sure did, sweetie." The woman said. The look she gave Spencer said clearly that she didn't trust him, was very wary of him, but she wasn't going to do anything about it, not if it meant risking taking away the relief he'd just given her child. Even if the mom didn't believe him, the child did, and that had been Spencer's goal when he came over here.

Leslie's bright smile turned back towards him and it lit up her whole face. "Thanks, Spencer!"

"You are very welcome." Spencer told her. Pressing his good hand against his knees, he prepared to push up to his feet. But before he did, he caught her eye one last time. "Make sure you tell Ali to be more careful next time. No more chasing toys into the street."

He missed the mother's shocked look as he rose to his feet. With one last smile and wave for Leslie, he turned around and found Remy standing there waiting for him, a soft smile curling the teen's lips. The look on Remy's face was warm and fond. "Y' big softy." Remy teased him. His words were amused, but there was something else in there, something that had Spencer standing just a tiny bit taller. "C'mon, let's get y' out to de car b'fore Papa gets out dere." Remy's arm slipped around his waist, the customary position of around his shoulders not possible right now with his stitches, and he started to lead Spencer away. He waited until they were outside where it was quieter before he looked down at Spencer again. "Dat was a nice t'ing y' did back dere."

"That's one of the few times I don't really mind my powers." Spencer told him. He found himself leaning in just a little against Remy's embrace. Not hiding like he had earlier, just accepting the comfort that was being offered.

Remy gave him a soft squeeze. "Y've got a good heart, Spencer."

"Mm." Spencer hummed noncommittally, embarrassment coloring his cheeks a little.

"Y' do. Y'r a nice kid, cher. Too nice." Remy stopped them alongside Jean-Luc's familiar car. Turning, he looked down at Spencer, and his expression had turned somewhat sad. He let go of Spencer's waist to reach up and smooth back his hair. "Remy never wanted dis fo' y', Spencer." His fingers trailed down, brushing lightly over the bandage covering Spencer's stitches. "Not dis."

"What'd you think all that training's been for?" Spencer asked him.

The teen wrinkled his nose slightly. "Planning fo' it's one t'ing…"

"Seeing it in action is something else entirely." He nodded in understanding.

Remy nodded back. "_Oui_."

A soft smile touched Spencer's lips and he reached up to pull off his sunglasses, wanting to be able to see Remy better for this. He met his friend's eyes and held his gaze. Remy looked back at him and found himself frozen. There was a look to Spencer's eyes, something in them that made him look so much older than his years. Older, and wiser. He didn't look like the scared kid he'd been back in the ER. If anything, he reminded Remy of one of his father's friends, an old veteran who had served through two different wars and who had seen things the rest of them would never understand. "I made my choice, Remy." Spencer told him gently yet firmly. "I pledged myself to you and to this, debts between our parents aside. I made that choice and I made it knowing some of what it would mean for me. I accepted the risks. This," He lifted his good hand, gesturing to his arm. "is nothing. Given enough time, it'll be a scar, nothing more, and I'll carry it without shame. I made a promise to Mattie, to your father, to myself, and most importantly, to you. If this is the price I pay to keep it, then I'll pay it, and gladly."

"What if it's a price Remy don't want y' paying? Y'r only fourteen, cher."

"You can't make that decision for me." Spencer said gently. In a rare display for him, he reached out, fingers brushing over Remy's arm. "I didn't make this choice in ignorance, Remy. I know what I'm getting myself into here. I know that this may be my first scar, but it's definitely not going to be my last. I've see what might be, what could be, and some of what _will _be. In my eyes, it's worth it. It will always be worth it. Can you accept that?"

For a long moment the two of them stared at one another. Spencer, with his too-old-eyes, and Remy, who for the first time was getting a glimpse at the things that Spencer had already seen and accepted. There was a part of the older teen that wanted to deny all of this. To refuse something that would put someone he was counting as a good friend at such a constant risk. Seeing Spencer hurt had brought home to him the reality of this all. It made what had been a game, training him to fight and teaching him how to protect, suddenly very real. The bigger part of him, however, knew that he couldn't just turn this way. That part also told him that even if he did try, Spencer would find a way to look out for him anyways. "I guess I aint got much of a choice." Remy finally answered. It was a sign of how serious he was that he used first person speech, a rarity for him. "Even if I said no, y'd still do it. Better to keep y' where I can see y' and look out fo' y' in turn."

The smile that stretched Spencer's lips was wide and bright. "We'll look after each other, then."

"Y' and me against de world, huh cher?"

Laughter bubbled up from Spencer. "I guess so." He saw something Remy's shoulder and he straightened himself up a little. "Starting now."

Remy turned around to see Jean-Luc coming towards them, and oh man, he did _not_ look happy.

A small step brought Spencer up to Remy's side. Impulsively, he twisted his wrist just enough to catch their fingers together. He was pleased when Remy didn't pull away but instead gave his hand a small squeeze. Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, they stood there together and waited, ready to take things on together—even a very pissed off father.


	9. Chapter 9

It was a peculiar sensation to want to both hug and yet scream at your children. To be thankful for their safety even as you're tempted to take them out back to the woodshed for a little one-on-one time. Since adopting Remy into his life, Jean-Luc had experienced that strange mixture quite often. There was no one more capable of warming his heart and yet driving him absolutely insane as Remy was. Not even Henri had ever caused so much trouble. He was what Remy jokingly called 'the good son', while Remy labeled himself 'the troublemaker'.

His troublemaker stood there right now, his spine straight and his expression neutral, with his accomplice by his side. Seated behind his desk, Jean-Luc folded his hands in front of him, elbows resting on the armrests, and he simply looked at his boys.

Most might've started this all by simply asking the boys what had happened. Jean-Luc knew better than to try that. Whatever was said would be whatever story Remy had concocted, either beforehand or right here on the spot. He knew how his boy worked. Talking with Remy sometimes took as much skill as any Guild negotiation that Jean-Luc had ever done.

But Spencer…he wasn't quite sure yet about him. Would he stand by whatever story Remy had come up with? Or was he the one to push to get the truth here? It was hard to tell.

Whereas Remy had pushed him so much that first year Jean-Luc had taken him in, Spencer seemed to go the opposite route. He was very careful and cautious. Instead of pushing, he seemed to try to hang back, to blend in and try to make himself as unnoticeable as possible; at least, he did around Jean-Luc. Around the boys was something else entirely. For the most part, Jean-Luc was grateful for that. At least Spencer had someone here that he was comfortable with. He was growing close with Remy even if their bickering made it hard to believe and he looked up to Henri in a way that Jean-Luc could see growing into a great brotherly relationship. But the older LeBeau couldn't help but ache a little each time he got around Spencer and saw the boy withdraw just the slightest bit. It was barely noticeable; just a minor thing in his eyes. Still, it was enough for him to see it. Spencer was still withdrawn from him. Hesitant. Not that he could blame him. Jean-Luc was the adult here, the one who had _bought_ him. It was natural that he was nervous around him.

That just meant he was going to have to work for this. Jean-Luc had never shied away from a challenge and this was no different. He'd get Spencer to relax around him. If he'd managed to have the patience and determination to deal with the wildcat that his other adopted son had been, he could sure manage to make it through Spencer's careful reserve. Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd be able to have another boy he could proudly call son. One day.

For now, he pushed back those thoughts for another time. Later, he would think about becoming Spencer's friend. Right now he needed to be a parent.

He ran his eyes over Remy, taking in the nicer than normal clothes, the hint of a hickey peeking out beyond his shirt collar. It wasn't exactly hard to see what he'd been doing with his night. What perplexed Jean-Luc wasn't what Remy had been doing—it was the young man at his side. Then again, maybe it shouldn't. Mattie had warned him that there was something in the air today. She'd warned him to keep the boys together as much as possible though she hadn't said _why_. It hadn't been a hard request for him to follow. But he'd thought his children had made it, that they were all safe in their beds. Then he'd gotten the phone call from the hospital. Nothing was more terrifying than a late night call from the hospital concerning one of your children. Jean-Luc swore his heart had stopped and that it didn't quite fully start again until he saw the boys, alive and, while not perfect, mostly well.

If Mattie had felt it, was it such a far stretch to think that Spencer felt that 'something in the air' that she'd mentioned? Mattie openly said just how strong Spencer's barely trained powers were. If he felt the same that she had, it made sense that he would've gone out with Remy. Child though he still was, Spencer very obviously took it very seriously when he promised to look out for Remy. That made Jean-Luc equal parts happy and sad. _They're too young for this_, he thought to himself. _He's too young to take anything like this on his shoulders._

He'd been staring at them long enough now that Spencer was shifting around ever so slightly in what was obviously an attempt to get comfortable. It was that movement that reminded him that the boy should be in a bed somewhere. At the least, he should be sitting. Immediately feeling guilty, he sat up a little and gestured to the chairs in front of him. "Sit down."

Spencer immediately slid down into one of the chairs, but Remy didn't. He stood beside Spencer and put a hand on the back of his neck. Standing firm and tall, he met his father's eyes without hesitation. "Wit' all due respect, Papa, Spencer's been injured and he should be in bed. He aint de one at fault here, neither. He was just following me. Why don't y' let me get him up an into bed and den we can talk about dis?"

Pride warmed Jean-Luc's insides. He kept his expression neutral, though. "Why don't de two of y' start explaining what exactly it was dat happened t'night?"

To his surprise, it wasn't Remy that spoke up, it was Spencer. "Let me preface this my first apologizing, sir." The young teen said in a steady voice. Now that he was seated, he looked even calmer than before, his face carefully composed. His arm was cradled in his lap in a way to minimize pain, though if Jean-Luc hadn't known he was injured, he wouldn't have seen it at all. Lifting his chin, Spencer met his gaze without flinching. "The both of us are deeply sorry for any stress we've caused you. I cannot imagine how frightening it was to receive a call from the hospital. Upsetting you is the very last thing that either of us wanted to do."

The boy had all the makings of a diplomat if they could just teach him to be comfortable around other people. He had a way with words that was beyond his years; Jean-Luc had noticed that from the instant that they'd taken the boy in. A part of him often wondered if that came from years of handling his father and his ill mother. Spencer was very adept at using words. He also had a calm bearing to him that made him seem very nonthreatening. For the first time, though, Jean-Luc was seeing the confidence that could be there, too. With Remy's hand on his neck, his presence at his side, Spencer was sitting up and speaking with a confidence he hadn't ever shown. It almost brought a smile to Jean-Luc's lips that was quickly smothered down. He inclined his head at his boys in acknowledgment of his words. "None of dat explains what it is dat happened? I'd like to know how it was exactly dat m' two boys, who should've been in bed, somehow ended up at a hospital downtown so dat one of dem could get his arm stitched up."

"Someone was after your son."

Spencer's straightforward words had Jean-Luc snapping to attention. Even Remy looked like he went on alert. "Who?" Jean-Luc demanded.

"This wasn't just a random attack." Spencer said, glancing up at Remy in some silent form of communication. The two had grown close enough lately that there was plenty said in that look that Jean-Luc didn't understand. Then the fourteen year old turned those unique eyes of his back to Jean-Luc and the eldest LeBeau found spellbound by the look there. He'd watched Mattie before when she'd had one of her rare daytime visions. It was nothing like what he saw now. Spencer's silver eye seemed to glow just the slightest bit, and for the first time Jean-Luc noticed that his brown eye was flecked with little bits of silver, almost unnoticeable until now, when they gave a faint glow. There was power in that gaze that looked both deep and ancient. It was in his voice, too, making him sound far older than his young years. "This was planned. Prepared. Just waiting for the right opportunity to implement. Now that he failed, he's going to draw back, regroup, and plan better."

"Someone paid him to come after us?" Remy asked, cutting off the very same question that had been about to tumble from Jean-Luc's lips.

Drawing in a breath, Spencer blinked his eyes and that aged look was gone, leaving behind a very exhausted looking teenager. His eyes softened, no longer glowing. Instead, they dulled slightly, pain and fatigue seeping through. "Yes. But it's all, it's jumbled up right now. Tomorrow, I'll sit with Mattie and see if she can help me clear my vision enough to be able to see. Right now, I just…" A soft sigh slid out and it was easy to see the way that he carefully drew his injured arm in. Little lines of pain showed around his eyes.

"Dat's enough fo' tonight." Jean-Luc told them. There was punishment and then there was torture. He wasn't going to torture his child. He knew what he needed to know. He knew why they'd gone out, without ever having to ask, just as he knew that asking wouldn't get him an honest answer. And now he knew what had happened to Spencer's arm. There were arrangements that were going to need to be made now to ensure Remy's safety. He would put some of it in place tonight while waiting on the rest until after Spencer and Mattie spoke tomorrow. For now, "Remy, get Spencer upstairs and in bed. Make sure he's taken care of. And tomorrow morning, when he's with Mattie, y' come find me and we'll discuss y'r punishment fo' sneaking out to see y'r _femme_." He added on those last words with a sharp tone that had Remy wincing. The boy was smart, though. He just nodded and said "_Oui_, Papa" before fixing his attention on Spencer.

Watching the two leave the room, Jean-Luc couldn't help his worry. Someone was after his boy and tonight, they'd almost succeeded. If it hadn't been for Spencer, they might have.

Fear faded away underneath a solid determination. His expression hardened as he reached out and picked up his phone and dialed the number to his head of security.

"Richard? _Oui._ I want y' to double de security around de house tonight. I don't want to risk anyone getting in. Den, I want y' here in m' office. We've got a lot to discuss."

* * *

After their meeting with Jean-Luc downstairs, which had gone so much better than Spencer had expected it to, it wasn't really any surprise to find Henri waiting for them upstairs. He was sitting on Spencer's bed when the two came in and immediately hopped up and hurried over. Spencer waved him off with his good hand. "It's fine. I'm fine." He insisted. Everyone was treating him like getting stitches on his arm had turned him into a giant invalid. While Spencer wasn't going to deny that it hurt—a _lot_—it didn't mean that he couldn't walk around or move on his own. He was very capable of getting over to the bed without any assistance from either LeBeau.

"What de hell happened?" Henri demanded, glaring at Remy behind Spencer.

Spencer resisted the urge to sigh as he pulled away from them both and went over to his bed. He really didn't feel like standing there while the two of them battled. There'd been enough fighting tonight for him.

It sounded like Remy felt the same way. "Can't dis wait till tomorrow, Henri? We've had a hell of a night and we're tired."

"Y' went out to see dat _chienne_ of y'rs, didn't y'?"

Oh, great. Spencer closed his eyes and bowed his head a little as he stopped beside his bed. What a choice of words. They were basically guaranteed to piss Remy off.

Sure enough, it took all of two seconds before Remy snapped, "Y' watch y'r fuckin' mouth, Henri, or I'll watch it fo' y'."

"I know she's easy, _mais_ I hope she's at least a good fuck, seeing as how y' put Spencer's life at risk to get it."

"Y' _fils de putain…_!"

"Enough!" Spencer cut in sharply. He spun around to face them, glaring at the brothers. Both were frozen, one watching him with surprise and one with concern. Spencer ignored it all and scowled. "Enough fighting, enough arguing, just _enough_. I am sore, tired, and beyond ready to climb into bed. The last thing I want is to lie here and have to listen to the two of you bicker. Remy, your brother is just worried. Henri, your brother has every right to want to see a woman he cares so deeply for, and you should know better than to stand there and insult her like that. You should also know better than to think that Remy willingly put my life at risk. He fought against me going with him but I chose to go because that's that vow I made to myself and to him and I am always going to hold to that, whether you or anyone else likes it. I chose _on my own_ to go with him and I chose to protect him. He didn't force me. Now, if the two of you don't mind, I'm choosing to get into my bed and sleep for at least the next ten hours, or until the need for a painkiller wakes me up. I'd appreciate it if you could both shut up so I can do that."

He spun back around and moved back to the bed to sit down so that he could get his leg up to take his shoes off instead of having to bend down. He missed the stunned look on Henri's face and the amused one that stretched over Remy's.

Moving forward, Remy crouched down beside the bed and caught Spencer's foot. "Here. It's a bit easier when y' got two working arms."

Spencer didn't bother protesting. One, he did need the help and he knew it. His arm was burning and really didn't want to move. And two, Remy wouldn't have listened to any protests anyways. Better to just let him do this.

He had to accept a bit of help with his shirt, too. That wasn't anywhere near as easy and by the time they were done, he was pale and his arm was throbbing. Remy moved to pull back the blankets and Henri stepped forward, a glass of water and a pill in hand. "I went and got dese from Papa. It should help y' sleep."

He took the pill without saying a word. Then, with a happy little sigh, he carefully arranged himself in bed, adjusting until the pressure on his arm eased and he could finally relax. Closing his eyes, he shut out the low murmur of the brothers, only vaguely aware of them as the light was shut off and the two moved over to Remy's side of the room. The night's events were catching up with Spencer a little and his body was letting him know it was done. Snuggling down into his blankets, he drifted off to sleep with the low hum of Remy and Henri's voices nearby and the knowledge that they were all back home and safe.

* * *

The boys were quiet when they came downstairs the next morning. Spencer was sore from his stitches and from bruises that had taken a little bit to settle in. He was also quite openly frustrated with the sling that had been waiting on his bed when he woke up that morning. According to Remy, it was from Mattie, and he was absolutely to wear it so as not to pull on his stitches at all. The young teen thought it was beyond overkill but he knew better than to argue with Mattie. So he wore it silently and a little sullenly as he ate his breakfast. Beside him, Remy was equally quite, knowing that his father wasn't all that pleased with him and that his punishment was still coming.

Jean-Luc didn't make them stew over it. He looked up as Remy, despite Spencer's protests, helped to serve breakfast onto Spencer's plate for him. When his son sat back down, Jean-Luc spoke. "How're y' doing dis morning, Spencer?"

Looking up with surprise, Spencer hesitated only a second before answering. "Sore, sir, but fine." He ignored Remy's sharp look, which told him that the teen didn't believe his 'fine', but thankfully Remy didn't say anything. There was no reason to complain about things to Jean-Luc. The only thing it would do would be to worry the man more.

"I'm glad to hear dat." Jean-Luc said. His gaze was sharp, though, and something told Spencer that the man didn't quite believe him either. But he didn't press. He picked up his coffee and watched them over the top of his cup. "Mattie's waiting fo' y' once y'r breakfast is done. She said she'd meet y' in de library and y' two can seek out dis vision y' were talking about. Remy, y'r to go in with him."

"_Oui_, Papa." Remy said.

The older man nodded at the soft acquiescence. He took a small drink of his coffee before continuing. "Some changes are going to be made to y'r schedules. Dis afternoon, I want y' to report to de training room, Remy. Seeing as how y' got plenty enough energy to be sneaking out at night and running round town, I figure y' must not be getting enough exercise. Fo' de next month, y'll be spending y'r afternoons with Parker in some extra training." His eyes sharpened a little on his son. "Hopefully dat'll teach y' to put y'r extra energy to better use."

Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer saw Remy grimace, but the teen knew better than to voice any protests. "_Oui_, Papa."

"As soon as de doctor gives y' clearance, y'll be joining him, Spencer." Jean-Luc added. Lifting a hand, he cut off any protests Remy might've made. His sharp gaze moved from Remy, over to Spencer. "While I know y' were going out to keep Remy safe, and I'm more appreciative of dat dan y' can imagine, de fact is y' still willingly left de house in de middle of de night, knowingly breaking de rules, and put y'rselves in danger despite de warnings y' and Mattie both felt. As I said, I know y' went so dat y' could keep Remy safe, _mais_ he would've been much safer here, at home."

Spencer bowed his head. He didn't protest the rebuke; it was true. His priority was supposed to be to keep Remy safe above all else. Sure, by following him out there, he'd done it. But the whole thing could've been avoided if he'd just simply kept Remy at home somehow. "Yes, sir."

"At Mattie's suggestion, de two of y' are going to start doing most of y'r training together. Not just physical, but some of de others too. Remy' y'r going to start joining Spencer and Mattie fo' an hour of training right b'fore bed with Spencer's powers. We believe it'll be best to not only teach Spencer, _mais_ to teach y' how to recognize what's happening with him and how to better understand his powers."

Wow. It sounded like Jean-Luc was making damn sure their days were going to be as full as possible. Spencer shared a discreet look with Remy, who was still sitting quietly beside him. Neither said anything, able to see that Jean-Luc wasn't done.

"To make sure y'r schedule is well-rounded, y'r mornings are going to be spent with proper schooling. Starting tomorrow, Remy, y'll report to y'r tutor directly after breakfast and y'll stay dere until lunch. As fo' y', Spencer. Later t'day, y' and I are going to sit down and take a look at de college course books in my office and we'll find de classes y' want to take and plan y'r schedule accordingly." The serious look on his face broke just the slightest bit when Spencer looked up with stunned surprise. A hint of a smile touched the man's lips. "After last night, it's apparent y'r training is coming along better dan I thought it was. I figure it's about time I make good on de promises I made. De new semester starts in two weeks fo' de University. I've spoken with a few people dere and got permission fo' y' to register late, so long as we get de papers in by de end of today."

Shock and joy both filled Spencer. The smile he gave Jean-Luc was one of the brightest the man had seen. "Really?"

Jean-Luc's expression softened ever so slightly. "_Oui, mon fils_." He chuckled a little when Spencer lit up even more. Shaking his head, he gestured towards their plates. "Eat y'r breakfast, boys. Y've got a busy day ahead of y' and Mattie's waiting on y'. We'll discuss dis more after lunch, Spencer."

The excitement of starting college—in two weeks! _Two weeks_!—completely pushed back anything else. Spencer was almost vibrating from it as he ate his way through a breakfast he barely noticed and didn't even taste. His mind was too caught up in thinking about the books he'd already looked at for college and the courses he'd had in mind. Wrapped up in his head, he missed the amused and indulgent looks that he got. It wasn't until breakfast was done and he and Remy were making their way towards the library that Spencer finally emerged from his thoughts again. Remy bumping up against his good shoulder was what pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to find that the teen was grinning at him. "Y'r de only kid I know dat looks dat fuckin' thrilled at de idea of more schooling." Remy teased him.

Spencer couldn't help it; his grin grew. "I've always wanted to go to college. I can't believe your Dad is really going to let me go."

"He told y' he would, didn't he?"

"Well, yes. I just—I really get to go." Spencer said it with a note of wonder in his voice. "I've been looking and hoping for almost three years now. I can't believe I actually get to go." Suddenly he paused, his grin sliding away to be replaced with a nervous look. Biting the inside of his lip, he tipped his head and looked up at Remy through his bangs. "Do you, um, do you think they'll have a special dress code or anything like that? The, uh, the high school I went to wouldn't let me wear my hat or my glasses. Do you think it'll be different in college?"

Remy smiled gently and bumped their shoulders together again. "I'm sure y'll be fine, cher. An even if dey don't, den screw dem." He reached a hand up and ruffled Spencer's hair, laughing as it made the boy scowl. "Y'r hair is fuckin' awesome. If someone don't like it, den dey're just jealous."

Smoothing back his hair with one hand, Spencer looked up at his friend and smiled. "Thanks, Remy."

"Anytime, petit. Anytime."

The two found Mattie waiting for them in the library. She was set up in the usual chair that she liked to sit in. It was by the couch and was comfortable enough for her to sit for a while in. Well used to working with her after these past few months, Spencer greeted her with a warm "_Bonjour_, Mattie." and a hug before he sat down on the reading couch. It was his favorite place to sit in the library and it was where he always sat when she brought him in here to work. She liked to bring him to the library for some of the heavier things that they did with his powers because she knew it was the room in the house that he was the most at ease inside of.

"Listen to y', speaking French." Remy teased him. He stepped up and hugged Mattie as well, kissing her cheek. "_Bonjour_, Tante. Y'r looking lovely dis morning."

His attempt at charm only earned him a sharp smack to the back of his head. When he pulled back, Mattie scowled up at him. "Don't y' be trying none of dat charm with me, y' heathen. G'on an sit y'rself on down over dere by Spencer. An don't let me hear y' messing with de boy fo' his French. He's a quick learner an he's picking it up fast."

Remy settled down next to Spencer and the two shared an amused look. The amusement faded quickly, though, as they got down to business. Mattie had already been told about what they wanted to do this morning by Jean-Luc, so they didn't have to spend any time with explanations. With that steady, musical voice of hers, she talked Spencer through getting comfortable and into a meditative state of mind. She had the boys sitting sideways, facing one another on the couch. Spencer settled down on the couch and carefully slid his arm out of his sling so that he could clasp Remy's hands within his. This was the first time that Spencer was actually going to try and actively use his powers to read another person. So far he'd only ever read people by accident, or through just a bit of observation. This time, Mattie was going to have him put to practice the things they'd been talking about and actually reach out and attempt to not just read someone, but to seek out the vision he wanted, not just the ones that came to him.

When they'd talked about it, the way Mattie had described things had left Spencer worrying that this was going to be hard. A lot of the things she taught him were difficult when he first tried to put them into practice. This was something she'd warned him in their previous talks was more difficult than it sounded. "Y' hear about it all over de place, all dese psychics that give readings and t'ings like dat. Most of dem are fakes. Y' an I both know dat. _Mais_ some, dey're real. Dey aint like y' t'ough, petit. Lots of dem are mediums—dey don't actually see t'ings demselves. Dey talk with de dead and de dead tell dem t'ings. Others, dey just read in de aura of de person."

"Like I do." Spencer had said.

He remembered how Mattie had shaken her head. "_Non_. Y' look at a person and y' see deir auras, _oui_, _mais_ fo' most psychics, dey only see de colors. To see more, like y', dey have to focus, to put in real effort. Y' see auras on a deeper level dan anyone I've ever seen, an y' do it wit'out even really focusing. When dey read people, dey're just doing what y' do every single day. What y' fight to not do. What I'm talking about wit' y'r reading someone is much harder, petit. I don't want y' to just look deep in deir aura. I want y' to open up y'r mind to de spirits and let de visions come. Try to seek t'ings. It won't be de same as de visions y' get in y'r sleep. Dese, y'll have to read, interpret. Like de raven y' saw b'fore, or de chains binding dose men. Dey weren't literal; dey were just a representation. De visions y' seek out like dis will probably be de same way."

It sounded difficult. Scary, even. The way she talked about it, Spencer would have to look beyond the simple facts he learned in auras. For this, he'd have to try and use Remy as a sort of conduit, looking beyond him, beyond the simple facts he might pick up about his friend, and actively seek out a vision about something connected to him. According to Mattie, there were very few who could do what she was hoping to have him attempt today. She'd already warned him in their talks that it might not work, either, at least not on the first try.

So when Spencer took a final deep breath and opened himself up to the power within him, he was stunned by the strength with which the vision hit.

The world around him faded except for the touch of Remy's hands in his. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip, anchoring himself on Remy's physical presence as the images poured into his mind so quickly and so strong they had him gasping. His eyes went wide as they stared off at something only he could see.

"Spencer," Mattie called out lowly. "What is it, chile? What do y' see?"

Spencer squeezed at Remy's hands again as the visions gripped him. "Something's coming." The words slipped from him almost unnoticed. His focus was on what he saw, what he heard, and the hands he held. He spoke without thinking, responding to the hint of power in Mattie's words. "Something dark. It runs over everything, thick and heavy."

"What does it want?"

"God, it's everywhere. Like poison. It destroys everything it touches."

This time, instead of Mattie, it was Remy's voice that spoke. Remy's voice that reached out to Spencer and drew him back just a little, just enough to stay anchored in himself. "Penny, listen to me, listen to Remy. Can y' see what it wants? What's it coming fo'?"

"The heart." Spencer breathed out. "The raven hunts the tiger. He wants to break him, destroy him, so he sent the darkness to take what matters most—his heart. I can see it. It's why he sent those men before. He wanted to see. Wanted to know his weakness. It's not enough to kill him anymore. He wants to destroy him, the way he feels his life has been destroyed. They tried once and failed, but he'll send the dark again. They'll wait and plan and when the time is right, the dark will come, and the jaguar and cougar will be lost."

The vision faded abruptly and Spencer felt like the world return around him like a splash of cold water. He jerked back, held in place only by Remy's hands, and he blinked his eyes rapidly to try and dispel the leftover of the images that had played there. When he focused them once more, he locked them on Remy, staring with wide eyes as he tried to suck in a steady breath. "It's you." The words tumbled past his lips, throbbing slightly with emotion. "It's coming for you. You and Henri. I saw it. Those guys that night, the ones that I couldn't figure out why they were there—they were there for the two of you. The raven sent them to find out what was important to Jean-Luc, something that he could use to hurt him, and the answer is the two of you. You're his heart. If anything were to happen to you…"

"It'd destroy him." Mattie finished softly.

Spencer looked over at her and nodded. His breath shuddered out of him and he once more tightened his grip on Remy's hands. It helped to steady him. "The man last night, that was just an attempt, a test. He'll try again. He's going to come for them again."

"And we'll be ready." Remy said. His voice was strong, firm. Something solid that made the world feel just a little steadier under Spencer's feet.

Mattie nodded her agreement. "Dat we will, chile. Can y' see how long we have, Spencer?"

He hesitated, eyes going just slightly vacant once more as he sifted through it all. "It's not soon. No less than a year, but it could be more. They won't want to risk messing up, so they'll take the time prepare."

Tugging on Spencer's hand, Remy gave the young teen a small smile. "So will we. We'll prepare, too, an dey'll find we aint easy prey here."

"This man, he's dangerous, Remy. He would've killed me without hesitation last night if the opportunity had presented itself. The only reason he didn't was because he didn't want to tip his hand too much. This, it could just look like regular trouble. They don't know I have my powers to help us." Spencer pointed out.

"Dat's why we need to keep y'r abilities quiet." Mattie interrupted them. "Dere's gonna be rumors, aint no stopping dat, _mais_ from now on, de talk of y'r powers demselves need to stay wit' de family. Dey're de only edge we might have on dis."

That was simple enough. If keeping quiet about them kept Remy, and Henri, safe, then Spencer would do it. Spencer didn't like talking about his powers to begin with. Looking over at Remy, the young teen wondered if he would find anything that he _wouldn't_ do to keep his friend safe, and what exactly that said about him that he was so willing to give his all in protection of one person that he hadn't even known up until six months ago, all because some visions and a woman who spoke with spirits told him that it was a part of his destiny. There was no turning back, though. He may've started this because of the visions, and later because of the personal vow he'd made, but as he looked at Remy and remembered their words from last night, the bond that was slowly growing between them, he knew this was slowly becoming more and more personal. He was too far down the road now to turn back, though. He was committed to this. All he could do was follow it and see where it led.


	10. Chapter 10

The commitment that Spencer made that night stuck with him through the years to come. It stayed in him, growing more and more with each passing day, each moment that he spent with this family. The bond between him and Remy grew and so did Spencer's commitment to protect not only that bond, but the man it connected him to. Even as he himself changed, that commitment never did.

Jean-Luc had lived up to his promise of enrolling Spencer at the local college. There were conditions, of course, and Spencer had come to accept them because he knew he wouldn't be able to go otherwise. One was that he had a security detail. Between Spencer, Remy, and even a bit of arguing from Henri, they managed to convince Jean-Luc that one guard would be enough to keep him safe at school. One would have a better chance of being discreet and passing as just another student in class and wouldn't draw too much attention to the young teen. Spencer's workload was also kept a bit lighter than he'd really like. Jean-Luc didn't want him overloaded, he said, though he promised to reassess things after he saw how Spencer handled this schedule. But he wanted Spencer to still have time for training, both physical and with his powers, and he didn't want the teen to be completely drained trying to do it all. So his workload was light, but Spencer was sure he could handle it.

With those conditions in place, Spencer finally got his dream—he got to start college. It was everything he'd wanted and so much more. With a bodyguard in place, he didn't have to deal with the same drama that he once had dealt with at school. Add in the fact that he was officially Spencer LeBeau, it gave him a sort of untouchable air. There weren't many in New Orleans who were dumb enough to mess with the LeBeau family. Spencer didn't really care what it was that kept him protected. He just enjoyed the benefits of it; for the first time he was able to go to school and not be afraid.

Under the care of the LeBeau family, Spencer grew and prospered in more ways than they could've hoped for. He grew up from the terrified and closed off young boy into the start of a man that made Jean-Luc proud every time he looked at him. He opened up to his new family slowly but surely, won over by their sheer love and their perseverance, and in reward they were granted his love and loyalty, two gifts he didn't give easily. But the LeBeaus earned them, each one of them.

In them, Spencer found a father he could rely on, one who cared for him and who he cared about in return; an aunt who loved him fiercely and who wasn't afraid to teach him and scold him and hold him when it all became too much; a big brother who cared and protected and teased him in ways no one else had ever done before.

And then there was Remy.

Spencer didn't have the words to describe what had grown between he and Remy. They were closer than friends, closer than brothers. The only person Spencer cared for more, or maybe equally, would be his mother. Remy was Spencer's _world_. Ever since that day that Jean-Luc had changed their schedules to be together, the bond between the two had only strengthened. The only time they were apart was when Spencer was at college, earning his way through his first doctorate, and in those moments where Remy and Belle stole time to be with each other. Though, technically, Spencer was still there. He just wasn't in the room.

There were bonds that held the two together that couldn't be seen by the naked eye but that Spencer's other senses saw clearly. Bonds that grew thicker and tighter as time went by. Spencer was Remy's—his boy, his property in the eyes of the Guild—but between them Remy was also Spencer's. His to care for, his to protect, his to look after. Spencer studied during the day for his doctorate in mathematics, but in the privacy of their home he also continued his other studies, studies that once would've terrified him. Studies in how to be a better thief, a better fighter—a better killer. There was nothing Spencer took more serious in his life than the vow he'd made to keep Remy safe. That vision that told him that someone was coming for the brothers had only reinforced that need to keep Remy safe.

Spencer had been right that night he'd gotten injured when he'd told Remy that this wouldn't be his first scar. It wasn't. He earned a few more over the years, working from the shadows to keep Remy safe. It wasn't easy work; it was dangerous and potentially deadly and always a challenge, but it was worth it. When the end of the day rolled around and Remy was alive and well, when Remy smiled that bright smile at him as he talked about what he and Belle were going to do, or about the up and coming engagement that was being arranged, Spencer would watch him and smile to himself and know that it was all very much worth it. When Remy finally became engaged to his love and the wedding was being planned, Spencer watched it all, still there in the background, Remy's shadow, protecting and supporting his friend through this important time, and making sure that he stayed safe.

The threat of the Raven, as Spencer still called this man in his mind, was always looming over them. Only once in these past two years had someone tried to come for Remy. One attempt had been made on his life outside of what was sadly considered the 'usual trouble'. During that instance, Spencer had fought off the attacker, who had run away as soon as backup started to arrive. In that instance, and in the other minor things, Spencer had only ever needed to injure an assailant. He'd never had to murder a man. That was one bridge he had yet to cross.

The night before Remy and Bella Donna's wedding, that all changed.

* * *

The attack on Remy the day before his wedding wasn't any real surprise. This was the perfect situation for an assassination attempt, sadly enough, and security was high because of it. Spencer stayed even closer to his friend's side than normal. It wasn't hard to do; this was a Guild affair and as Jean-Luc had once warned him, the Guild saw him as no more than Remy's property, bought to be his companion. No one outside of the house had any idea about the things that Spencer had done for Remy. They had no idea about his training or his abilities. Spencer was their secret weapon. Though he'd just recently turned sixteen, his body had only just started to grow and he still looked quite a bit younger, giving him an extra air of youthful innocence to him.

Spencer had woken up that morning with a sense of foreboding in him that didn't go away. If anything, it got worse as the day drew on, leaving Spencer perpetually on edge. He felt like he was constantly watching around him waiting for _something_. He just wasn't sure _what_.

It wasn't until their rehearsal dinner that things finally came to a head.

For the duration of the day Spencer had kept close to Remy's side. That wasn't uncommon, especially with all the people there, so no one really thought anything of it. At the rehearsal dinner he was even seated beside him. Remy had been insistent on that and Belle had sided with him. Though to an outside it probably looked as if Spencer were simply Remy's second shadow, following him without ever really saying much, in reality Spencer was on almost constant guard. He couldn't chase away that feeling inside of him. It had him on alert, viewing every person around them as a threat, trying to keep not only his eyes but his other senses open as well to try and pick up on whatever this was.

The sixteen year old was quiet as he sat at Remy's side at dinner. He ate almost mechanically, not even really paying attention to the food he was putting in his mouth. Half of his focus was on Remy at his side and the other half was focused around them, trying to figure out why that bad feeling was growing stronger. He ducked his head down a little and for once was just a bit grateful that he wasn't allowed to wear his hat at the table. It meant that his silver hair was free to fall down and shelter his eyes from view. No one could see as his eyes once more scanned the room around him. He took note of all the guards here, both thieves and assassins, as well as the people who were around the table. Why was he feeling like this? What was going on? Remy was one of the most protected people right now. The only person more protected was Belle.

Remy's knee brushed lightly against Spencer's under the table. That small touch had the young genius turning to look at his companion curiously. Ever conscious of those around him, Remy didn't say anything, didn't openly question Spencer, but the small tilt of his head and another nudge of his knee were enough for Spencer to read the silent question—_Are you okay?_

He flashed a small smile and nudged him back. _I'm fine._

It was when Spencer turned back towards his plate once more that it hit him. His eyes reflexively scanned across the wall opposite the, with the tall windows that looked out onto the bright New Orleans night, only to have his other senses suddenly on high alert. The past two years of training with Mattie had helped hone his skills. He could see more now and understand more of what he saw. Not just in auras, but in visions. It was a vision that washed over him now. Just a glimpse of what _could be_; what _would be_ if he didn't move.

The vision was there and gone again so quickly, no one around him even noticed that anything had happened. Not even Remy noticed the little hitch in Spencer's movement. He'd been too caught up in his conversation with Belle to notice.

Spencer didn't have any time to waste. He pushed his chair back from the table and rose, pausing halfway to put his hand on Remy's shoulder and murmur in his ear. "I'll be right back. Stay here, please, and be on alert." With that warning, he rose the rest of the way, ignoring Remy's reflexive reach for him. No one else seemed to pay any attention as Spencer left the large dining room.

Billy and Jonathan, two thieves that Spencer knew, were guarding the door when he slipped out of it. They weren't two that knew about what Spencer could truly do and so he said nothing to them as he slipped away and made off as if he were going to the restroom. Only, instead of making a right down that hall, he made a left, heading towards the door that led him outside. Without anyone the wiser, Spencer slipped outside.

* * *

Remy felt on edge almost from the moment that Spencer left the table. He kind of felt he was a little justified in that. Spencer didn't often leave him, most especially when they were in a crowd like this, and his warning as he'd left hadn't exactly been the most reassuring. Oh, sure, he'd probably warn Remy to be alert even if there wasn't trouble, simply because he didn't like leaving him alone. The years had only served to make Spencer more and more protective. _But_, in a setting like this the only way that Spencer would willingly leave Remy alone, without something coming up and calling him away, was if he'd felt or seen something that required his immediate attention. And the kind of attention that Spencer would provide wasn't going to be nice.

With all that in mind, it was logical that Remy was on edge a little. He kept calm, though. His father had taught him well in the art of diplomacy…even if Remy didn't always use it. He put his hard earned skills into practice now and smiled charmingly at Belle, carrying on a regular conversation, even as he kept a sharp watch around them.

It was that vigilance that alerted Remy just a split second before the loud crash of broken glass. Only a half a second later, there was a loud thud as a large crossbow bolt landed in the table just inches from Remy's hand.

The whole room erupted into motion. Remy and Belle both dropped in a flash, down under the cover of the table. Around them, everyone was moving, orders being shouted and people trying to secure the room. It took almost no time at all—Remy had barely gotten a handful of cards at the ready—before security was there to usher both him and Belle out of the room. It was no surprise that Assassins took Belle one way while Thieves took Remy another. The two had just enough time for a kiss before they were pulled apart. It was a safety protocol to separate them. If the target were both of them, separation would force the assassin to work harder. If it were one, separation would keep the other safe.

In short order Remy found himself in his father's office, one of the most secure places in the entire house. His father, Mattie, Henri, Raymond—their head of security—and ten different guards were all there as well. Remy strode in without any sense of concern for his safety. His eyes fixed right on his father as he marched forward. "What de hell's going on, Papa? I thought we had dis place locked down!"

The look Jean-Luc gave his son made it clear he wasn't pleased with Remy taking that tone with him. "We did." He answered, just a bit sharp. His eyes drifted behind Remy to the usual spot that Spencer took and when he found it empty his gaze snapped back to Remy's face. "Where's Spencer?"

Conscious of the others in the room, Remy made his answer discreet. "He went to de bathroom right b'fore t'ings happened." He had to have seen something; Remy was sure of it. Why else would he have left like that or given the warning he had? A chill ran down Remy's spine. Had Spencer been up there with this shooter? Could that bolt have been aimed somewhere else? If it had…Jesus. If it had, it meant Spencer had saved his life. _Again_. Remy made the sign of the cross and said a soft blessing for the day that Spencer had been brought into his life. When he looked up, he saw that he wasn't the only one who had made that gesture.

A low rap at the door, three short and one long, interrupted them. All heads turned towards the sound just as the door opened. Remy didn't give a damn about the guard that came in first—all he had eyes for was the silver haired one behind him. "Spencer!"

Spencer was looking at him even before Remy called his name. Over the years, Remy had gotten used to the sensation of Spencer's eyes on him, those uniquely opposite eyes almost always fixed on Remy somehow even if it appeared he was looking at something else. He'd gotten used to the intensity that could be in that stare or the way that sometimes they left him feeling like Spencer was looking at him and seeing so much more than human eyes could see. The look that he saw in them now had his worry going sky high. There was a hooded sort of look there that Remy knew well meant pain; that was further backed up by the very deliberate way he was walking, something he usually did when he was hurting. But there was also worry there, and guilt. Lots of guilt. That was what had Remy worried the most. His greatest fear was that one day Spencer was going to have to kill in his self-imposed quest to protect Remy's life. The idea of this sweet kid having to kill someone…it ripped him up inside. He didn't want that. Some days he looked at Spencer and he still saw the terrified, alone little boy that had first come to them instead of the lanky, sometimes awkward sometimes scarily graceful genius that he was now. Remy didn't want to have to see the man Spencer would become if he had to get real blood on his hands. Not just harming someone, but taking their very life. He was afraid of what it would do to him.

It wasn't any real surprise that Spencer moved straight to Remy instead of towards the others like anyone else might. Remy reached out the minute that Spencer got close. He didn't think anything of it as he caught Spencer up in a hug. Burying his face in against that mussed silver hair, he breathed out a sigh of relief. "Don't y' scare me like dat, cher."

"Sorry." Spencer murmured right against his chest. He brought his arms up to hug Remy back and if there was a slightly desperate air about the embrace, well, neither one commented on it.

Remy heard as his father dismissed the others from the room. When the two finally broke apart, only Jean-Luc, Mattie, Henri and Raymond remained—all people who knew about Spencer's training and what he could do.

Jean-Luc came up first to hug Spencer as well. "I'm so glad y'r okay, _mon fils_."

"I'm fine, Jean-Luc." Spencer reassured him. The young genius let the other two hug him as well, but he extracted himself a bit more quickly than normal and slipped back into what he, and sometimes Remy, considered his customary place at Remy's side. His body straightened up and the expression on his face was that of one much older than his sixteen years. "I'm sorry I didn't warn any of you beforehand. I saw something when I was at the table and I didn't have time to do much but move." He cast a guilty look over at Remy. "I was almost too late as it was."

So, the bolt _had_ been aimed differently. Spencer had saved him—again.

"We understand, Spencer." Jean-Luc said. He leaned back against his desk and watched Spencer carefully, concerned yet, as always, steady. A leader. "Tell us what happened."

"I saw someone in the distance with a crossbow and bolt. Up on the southeast corner of the wall, hidden by the trees. I got there in just enough time to knock him off balance. Once he missed, we wrestled for a bit." Pausing, Spencer licked his lips and his gaze dropped down and away briefly. "I hesitated, sir. I had him right there, but I hesitated, and he managed to knock out my legs and escape. I'm sorry." The way that Spencer stood, shoulders back and spine straight, that guilt just oozing off of him, he was so obviously ready to accept what it would appear he considered a due punishment.

Remy smothered back the sigh of relief he felt at the knowledge that his best friend hadn't been forced to kill, for him.

The guilt hadn't gone unnoticed by their father. "Y' did good, _mon fils_." Jean-Luc said. "Y' saved Remy's life t'night and dat's what matters. Did y' learn anything about de man?"

"He works for the Raven."

That was all he said. That was all that he _needed_ to say. Jean-Luc shook his head and sighed. As Remy watched his father, he noticed for the first time that the man had aged lately. Not much; a few extra lines around his eyes, a bit of tension in his shoulders. Stress sat heavily on him an made him look just a little bit older. It left Remy feeling slightly guilty. His wedding to Belle probably wasn't helping. It was what Henri jokingly called a 'political nightmare'. The stress of that probably sat heavily on Jean-Luc's shoulders. Add in his worry for his sons because of the Raven's attempts and the poor man had a lot on his plate.

Jean-Luc drew in a breath and squared his shoulders. His gaze was steady when it came back to his sons. "Dere aint much else y' can do here. Belle's been taken safely away till de wedding tomorrow, an all y' boys are here and safe—thanks to y', Spencer." He spared a second to smile at Spencer, who even after all these years still flushed under the attention, never really all that comfortable with praise. That blush made Jean-Luc's smile warm a little more. When he looked at Remy, some of his tension had faded. "Take him upstairs, make sure he's all right, and den I want de two of y' to get some sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow."

Those were orders Remy could easily follow. He had absolutely no trouble gathering Spencer up under one arm, tucking him against his side, and leading him out of the room. Guards were waiting for them outside and they escorted the two upstairs. It wasn't until they were inside their room—once it'd been checked to make sure no one was lying in wait—that he finally got a chance to turn to Spencer and show the worry that had been plaguing him ever since he'd realized where Spencer had gone.

Before he could even open his mouth, Spencer rushed to reassure him. "I'm fine, Remy. A few bruises, nothing major."

"Y'r sure?" Remy took enough of a step back to be able to look him over. He knew Spencer well and knew that the teen wasn't above hiding injuries to keep Remy from worrying.

A smile touched Spencer's lips. "I'm sure. Bruised ribs, a few bruises on my leg, one on my shoulder. Nothing serious. You've done worse damage when we spar."

There was nothing but honesty in Spencer's tone. Hearing it, it relaxed Remy, let some of his tension fade away. Spencer was here and he was okay. They were all okay. Meeting those two tone eyes, he smiled, one hand coming out to brush a bit of hair behind Spencer's ear. "_Merci Dieu_ y'r all right." Lips quirking, he brushed his knuckles over Spencer's cheek. "At least he didn't mark up y'r pretty face, _oui_? Y'll still be gorgeous fo' de pictures t'morrow."

Spencer laughed and gave him a light shove. "I'm not the one that needs to look pretty for the pictures."

"Don't t'ink y'r getting outta dem, cher!" Remy wagged a finger at him. "Y'r m' right hand man—y'r gonna be right dere with Remy. Y' and Henri, m' best men."

"Joy." Spencer said dryly. He'd developed that sense of humor of his over the years, though it still rarely came out around anyone that wasn't family, and it came out more around Remy. He could have a very dry wit sometimes that never failed to make Remy chuckle. It showed now as the teen sat down on the edge of his bed and bent to start removing his shoes. "Who would've ever guessed it? _Le diable blanc_, getting married—and in a big, fancy church wedding, too!"

That nickname from anyone else might've carried a sting to it. It'd been thrown at Remy for a long, long time, a taunt and an insult. From Spencer it carried nothing but fondness and affection. Remy didn't mind it in the least. He dropped down onto his own bed and folded his hands behind his head as he stretched out. "De church won't know what hit em. _Le diable blanc_ and _le diable argenté_, both in de church. People gonna be crossing demselves all over de place."

He grinned when he saw Spencer roll his eyes. His companion liked to pretend sometimes that he hadn't earned himself any sort of nickname or reputation by being at Remy's side. Sometimes, he seemed more like he was content to just fade into Remy's shadow, hiding away. In reality, that only helped fuel the rumors about him. Plenty of people had taking to saying that _le diable blanc_ had found himself a demon of his own in the child. That's how Spencer had earned his own nickname right alongside him. People saw them together and whispers often followed them. Remy had already had his own reputation long before Spencer had come along. Having Spencer at his side had only helped fuel that reputation and spread it to his companion.

Remy lay there and watched through half-open eyes as Spencer went through the familiar ritual of preparing for bed. There were probably so many words that could be said between them right now. Reassurances that they were okay or that Spencer had done the right thing. He knew his young friend was still feeling guilty, and he knew now that it wasn't because he'd killed someone—it was because he'd hesitated and let him get away. But he also knew that as much as Spencer liked to use words, he didn't always like to hear them. Sometimes he just needed Remy's steady presence there with him to help center him. No words, no big conversations. Just his presence nearby could sometimes be enough to help Spencer find his footing again.

Without even realizing it, Remy found himself slowly starting to drift as he listened to the familiar sounds of Spencer's movements. Sounds that had been a part of his night for a little over two years now. He drifted off to sleep, only barely registering it as Spencer came over and removed his boots. Any other touch and he would've been up in a heartbeat. But he'd long ago learned Spencer's touch and presence. By the time his boots were off and Spencer went to shut off the lights, Remy was asleep.

Hours later he was still asleep when Spencer woke with a gasp. He didn't stir as the teen carefully slipped out of bed and drew on his clothes, nor as the bedroom window was opened and Spencer slipped out into the night.


	11. Chapter 11

The night air felt cool against Spencer's face as he slipped out of his bedroom window. It was ridiculously easy for him to use the little toe holds that Remy had once shown him and climb almost silently up towards the roof. The two had done this plenty of times when they'd wanted to come up and watch the stars or just get away for a little while. Remy had a ridiculous thing about liking to be high up above everything. Roofs especially. He said it felt free up there. Spencer thought that maybe he was just part cat.

The dream that had woken Spencer was still thrumming inside of him. He was cursing himself as he cleared the gutter and moved up onto the roof. How could they have been so stupid? How had they not thought of this? The Raven was sending killers to take out Jean-Luc's heart. Spencer had seen that. He knew that. _'He wants to break him, destroy him, so he sent the darkness to take what matters most—his heart.' _That was what he'd said to Mattie and Remy before, when he'd first sought out the vision that had clued them in to what was going on. That had been the vision that had sparked all the extra training and extra protection. But somewhere along the way, with the attacks that happened all being geared towards Remy, the family had forgotten one important part of that—Jean-Luc had more than one child. And Spencer had seen tonight in his dreams what would happen while most of the guards were watching over Remy. He'd seen the shadows as the darkness slipped in and the swallowed the cougar whole. When he woke, there'd been no time to think, no time to do anything but grab his weapons and go. He'd sworn to protect Remy with his life, but that didn't mean that that protection didn't extend to the others in his adoptive family.

The dark of the night offered plenty of shadows in which a body could hide. Spencer utilized them as he moved with all the stealth that Henri and Remy had taught him. Those shadows helped to hide him, and they would've helped to hide the one he hunted, too, but Spencer was looking with eyes that saw so much _more_. The thick blackness of the aura ahead of him was sickeningly familiar. He'd seen it earlier, when a man had aimed a crossbow at Remy and Spencer had been just seconds away from being too late. The man had gotten away because Spencer had hesitated to do what needed to be done. He wasn't going to make that mistake again.

He wasn't sure what he did but something alerted the man to his presence. Just as Spencer got close, his knives already in hand, the man's head snapped up. Dark blue eyes found his and Spencer shivered at the pure insanity that he saw there. This was a man who loved what he did; loved the blood and the death and the power. "You again." Pushing up, the man stepped out from where he'd been crouching, moving to the flat part of the roof. They were right over Henri's room, just before the patio roof. The man straightened up and met Spencer's gaze head on, smiling at him. "You just keep getting in my way."

There was no point in hiding now. Not now that he'd been seen. Spencer dropped down onto the same section of roof and then straightened up as well. "I'm not exactly sorry about that."

"You're not, are you?" The man's lips curved up into a chilling smile. He shifted his weight and Spencer recognized the movement, had seen Henri employ it when he was preparing to spar. That tiny little movement was enough to have Spencer bracing. The guy's grin grew. "It's a shame to have to do this, but I'm thinking maybe it's time I take care of you. With you out of the picture, we'll see how long your little friends survive then."

"I won't let you have them." Spencer swore. The words rang with an echo of his power.

"We'll see about that."

With no more warning the man launched forward with all the speed of a striking snake.

This was nothing like any of his sparring practice with the brothers, nor was it like any fight he'd been in before. All those other times he'd gone after someone who was coming after Remy, he'd gone with the intent to take them out, to keep Remy safe, and the one he fought had always sought to get away. That wasn't the case this time. This time, Spencer wasn't holding back and neither was his attacker. This was a fight that wouldn't stop until one of them was dead.

Spencer knew that there was no way he had the skill enough to beat this man on his own. He'd only been training for a few years and that training had been broken up by things like school. This man he fought had trained for much,, much longer. It was an art to him. Spencer could see that in every move he made. In a regular fight, he knew he'd be slaughtered in just a short time, even if he did manage to hold his own for just a little bit. But he had an advantage here that the other man didn't. For the very first time Spencer dropped every single shield he had over himself and he let his other senses open wider than he'd ever done. He didn't fight it as the power washed over him or as his eyes suddenly saw so much clearer and so much more different than he'd ever seen.

The man—_Tyrone, his name was Tyrone—_ducked down under Spencer's swing and came up on the other side with a blow aimed for Spencer's head that should've taken him down. Would've, if he hadn't ducked. He dropped down and twisted himself to the right, the glow of his eyes shining in the dark with the power that was coursing inside of him, the Sight that was gripping him. He easily deflected the next blow with a speed that shouldn't have been possible. He used Tyrone's aura and the energies around him to See his moves before he even started them. It was dangerous, to be open this wide, but he didn't care. He wouldn't let the man touch his family.

Spencer Saw what was coming and he twisted his body once more. It left him open, allowed for a blow to his ribs that almost stole his breath away, but it provided him with just the opening he needed. Even as he folded underneath Tyrone's blow, he was swinging in with his other arm.

The whole world seemed to still as the knife slid through flesh like it was cutting through butter. The two men froze just a breath apart. Spencer stared up into Tyrone's eyes as the light in them flared bright and then, like a flame being blown out, vanished, and the dark enveloped the soul inside. His knife had gone between the ribs and straight up into his heart with far more force than Spencer had thought himself capable of. He held there, staring for one moment at the body that was suddenly slumping against him, barely even feeling the weight against his arm. He had just killed a man. He'd _killed a man_. And he'd done it with a blow that really shouldn't have been possible. To get just the right spot, just the right angle, should've taken a miracle. Yet his hand had moved with barely any thought.

Spencer drew back almost numbly and watched the body drop down to the roof. That's all it was now—a body. There was no soul inside of there anymore. No life. What life had been there was gone now, because of him. Because of him and his blade.

He heard the sound of movement nearby but he didn't bother turning that way. His senses were still open enough that he knew who was coming without even having to look. Feeling the others come close, everything about them right out there for him to see, Spencer yanked his shields back into place with as much speed as he could, slamming them down over his mind.

Spencer was still on one knee, staring at the lifeless corpse in front of him, when Henri and Raymond both appeared on the roof. There were others on the way, Spencer knew. More guards. He didn't really care about it. His eyes couldn't seem to leave the dead man; a man he had killed. His knife was still in him and an absent part of Spencer's mind thought that maybe he should do something about that. He didn't move, though. He just stayed there, numb, as Henri came over to him, and as the man he thought of as a brother moved to block his sight. Even with Henri in the way, Spencer swore he could still see that body. He had a feeling he always would.

"Spencer." Henri crouched down in front of him and cupped Spencer's face in warm hands. "_Mon frère, _are y' all right? Are y' hurt?"

Blinking his eyes a few times, Spencer tried to clear out his vision, to bring his focus back. His tongue felt sort of thick in his mouth and there was this strange sense of disconnect that had come when he'd pulled his shields back down again. "I had to stop him." He looked up and finally managed to meet Henri's eyes. It seemed important to explain himself to him. More important than anything else. "Everyone thought he was going to try for Remy, but I saw it. I dreamed it. He was going to kill you. I had to stop him."

Something akin to anguish flashed over Henri's face. "Ah, petit."

"He wouldn't stop. I…I had to. I couldn't let him hurt y', Henri." At the end of it, Spencer's voice cracked a little and he slipped into that faint hint of an accent that he'd picked up. Years of living in New Orleans, with a family who all had an accent to varying degrees, and spending most of his time with the most heavily accented of them all, all of those had left Spencer with an extra accent on his own words. It didn't show up often; he worked to keep it out of there. But when he was tired, or stressed, or that memorable time that Remy had gotten him drunk, that was when it showed through. It showed now as the emotion started to crack through the numbness around Spencer.

He didn't hear it as Raymond murmured to Henri to, "Get him down and inside. He's in shock, Henri. I'll handle dis up here."

The hands left Spencer's face, arms coming around him instead and slowly helping him up to his feet, coaxing him into moving. He let himself be led across the bit of roof and then carefully down the part that would let him drop down onto the patio in Henri's room. Spencer stumbled when he landed, only to be caught up in Henri's embrace, steadying him and holding him. "It's okay. I got y', _petit frère._ Y'r okay. I got y'."

The words cracked through some of the numbness around Spencer. He leaned in to Henri's embrace and a small shudder ran down him. "I, I need…"

"What, Spencer?" One of Henri's hands came up to curl over the back of Spencer's neck much like Remy did. "What do y' need?"

There was only one answer that Spencer could think of to that. One thing that he found himself wanting more than anything. "M'room." The accent was still there on his words, just a little thicker than before. "I need m'room. Remy's…Remy's alone in dere. I need…he can't be alone…"

As Spencer's voice rose, panic starting to slip through, Henri's hand tightened on his neck. "Shh, Spencer. We'll get y' to y'r room. I promise y', we'll get y' in dere. We just gotta get y' outta dis shirt first, _d'accord_?"

It was then Spencer realized that the clothes he was wearing were soaked in the blood of the man he had just killed. The panic hit full force and Spencer was moving before his brain could even catch up with what his body was doing. All he knew was that he had to get these clothes off him. He had to get them off, _now_. He didn't even notice or care about Henri's hands on him anymore. All he cared about was getting out of his bloody clothes as quickly as possible. But even when they were gone, even when he stood only in his underwear, it wasn't enough. The blood was all over his hands, some of his arms, he could feel it there. It felt like it was burning through his skin.

If it hadn't been for Henri, Spencer might've gone just slightly crazy in that moment. Looking back, he knew that. His panic might've taken over and sent him into a dangerous spiral. But Henri _was_ there and he took care of Spencer. He got him into the bathroom and he wet down a towel to wash Spencer's arms with cool water. Cool, not warm, because warm would've felt like more blood. The cool water felt, fresh. Cleansing. It washed away all traces of blood on Spencer's pale skin. Then, once he was clean, he helped to dry him and then dressed him in one of Henri's shirts, wrapped him in his robe, and helped Spencer back to his room.

There was only one moment of panic, when they were halfway there and Spencer was stumbling. Henri held him closer and murmured "Just a little further, Spencer. A little further and we'll get you to Remy."

The panic that Henri had been helping to keep at bay came roaring back at that. "No!" Spencer exclaimed, stopping right there in the hallway. "No, he can't!"

Henri furrowed his brow at him. "Can't what, Spencer?"

"He can't know." Spencer spit out. His eyes went wide as they locked on Henri's face. "Please, Remy can't know."

"Spencer…"

"No, please! Please, Henri. Y'know Remy—he'll try and take de blame for dis on himself. Please, Henri! He can't know!"

"Okay, okay." Rubbing his hand over Spencer's arm, the older man pulled him in once more and started up that soothing murmur. "It's fine. Remy won't know. I won't tell him an I'll make sure no one else does either. Y' just hush now, Spencer."

They may have agreed to not tell Remy, but that didn't mean that Remy wasn't going to find out anything. Remy was always a bit of a light sleeper and he stirred a little when they came in the room, but it was when Henri was coaxing Spencer into bed that Remy woke fully. The sound of his brother's voice drew him up out of sleep.

"Henri?" Remy's voice drifted across the room, rough with sleep, and in the faint light from the moon they could see the teen sit up in his bed and rub at his face. "What's going on?"

There was no chance for Spencer to even try to answer, though he doubted he would've been able to find the words. Henri took care of it for him. "Aint not'ing, Rem. Spencer's having a bad night, dat's all." Bad night must've been some kind of code between them because Remy nodded like this was the most normal thing in the world and then, instead of lying back down, actually climbed out of his bed and padded across the room. Spencer was already lying in bed and Henri was stretching out in front of him, something he hadn't expected. He also hadn't expected Remy to lift the blankets and slide into the bed at Spencer's back so that the youngest was bracketed between them. Spencer tried to turn, to look over at him, but Remy pushed up against his back like it was nothing and wrapped an arm around his waist. It was the perfect counterpoint to the steady warmth of Henri right in front of him. One of Henri's hands caught at Spencer's, lightly holding his wrist, and the other lifted to tuck some of his hair behind his ear. "Go to bed, Spencer." Henri said kindly. "We've got y'."

A tremor ran down Spencer's body. "I…I…"

"Shh." Remy murmured into his hair. He brought his hand up, flattening it over Spencer's heart, and pressed in just enough to bring them that much closer. "Henri's right, cher. We got y'."

Remy most likely thought that this was just a nightmare. It wouldn't be the first Spencer had had. Spencer was content to let him think that, too. He opened himself up just enough to let the warm colors of Remy's aura mesh with his. He let it surround him and wash way some of the pain that sat over him. Wrapped up in them, Spencer let go a little, let his body tremble with the aftershocks of what he'd just done. He drew in the warmth they offered and hoped it would chase away the chill he felt down inside his soul. Maybe with their presence, he might be able to chase away the images of the man's death, the feel of that blade in his hand, the blood on his skin.

He msut've made some kind of sound because Remy started to rub at his arm and hum a low, soothing tune while Henri pressed in closer and brushed hair back from his cheek, kindly ignoring the bit of moisture he found there. "It's gonna be okay, Spencer." He promised him softly. "Things will be better tomorrow, I promise."

There, wrapped up in them, Spencer drifted into a fitful sleep, wishing with all his heart that this would be over even as he knew it wasn't.

* * *

Little did Henri know how badly he would end up breaking that promise. No one had expected things to turn out the way they did. No one had thought that what was supposed to be a beautiful wedding would end this way.

Spencer had never felt as powerless as he did when he had to stand aside and watch while Belle's brother Julien shouted his objections to the wedding and challenged Remy to a duel. He had to stand there, held back by both Jean-Luc and Henri so that he couldn't interfere, and watch as Remy fought in a challenge that was to the death. Watch as one of the visions he'd had on that first night so long ago finally came true. The pieces of it came back to him as he watched it all unfold. The dagger, right into Julien's shoulder, glowing pink with the power Remy hadn't meant to put there. The curses, the screams, the sound of Belle's voice ringing out in the air.

The fight was fair, but recompense was demanded, and Spencer knew what it was before it was said. He knew as he stood tall and proud at Remy's side just what was going to be demanded of him; of _them_. He held his tongue as Remy was bandaged and Jean-Luc told them of their fate. "They don't want your life." The man told him. His eyes briefly went past Remy to where Spencer stood and their gaze met in a moment of silent understanding. Spencer gave a small nod, letting Jean-Luck know that he understood what was coming, and offering his silent promise that he would watch over Remy just as he'd sworn to do all those years ago. Jean-Luc nodded back before bringing his eyes once more to Remy. "It might have come to that, but y'r wife spoke for y' and suggested another way. Y'r penalty will be de lesser one—of exile."

It broke Spencer's heart to see the stricken look on Remy's face. The way he jerked back and stared at his father with something akin to horror. "Exile? From de city? From New Orleans?"

Spencer had to watch as Remy and Belle embraced in what he knew would be the last touch between them for a long, long time. He bowed his head and tried not to listen, his heart breaking with each word the two spoke as Belle begged to go with him and Remy firmly turned her down. He wasn't surprised when Remy spun without another word and walked back inside. Silent, Spencer moved to follow him, just as he'd always done. Belle caught his arm before he'd even made it two steps. Her eyes were bright and full of more emotion than he could ever remember seeing there. "Watch over him." She begged softly. "Please. Keep him safe, Spencer."

The young genius smiled sadly at her. "With my life."

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving behind everything he had come to know, everything he'd come to love.

* * *

He said nothing as he trailed after Remy once they left the church. There wasn't even time for them to go to the house and gather up their things, though they'd been granted enough time to change back into regular clothes at the church. They were leaving only with what they had on them. Spencer was grateful for his powers in that moment. Though he hadn't realized until it was too late what was going to happen, there had to have been a part of him that remembered. He'd worn all his weapons when he came today. Everything that was important to him was on his person. They didn't need to worry about changes of clothes; those could be bought wherever they ended up.

A group of Assassins and Thieves both trailed them to make sure that they left the city. Neither Spencer nor Remy spoke to one another the whole trip. Spencer kept himself mostly hidden, even from Remy, watching the group around him to make sure that none of them tried to end Remy a bit more permanently.

It wasn't until they were on the boat taking them away from New Orleans that Spencer finally stepped back out of the shadows and up to Remy's side.

The Cajun was standing at the railing of the boat, watching as the city slowly faded into the distance. He didn't turn as Spencer moved to stand by his side. Though Spencer had kept back, Remy had known he was there. He always knew when Spencer was there. Without looking away from the lights of the city, he softly said "Y' shouldn't have come, cher."

"My place is with you." Spencer said simply. "Wherever that may be. Besides, in the eyes of the Guilds, I belong to you. You _own_ me. I've studied the laws that surround that. Any punishment given to you extends to me as well." That included this banishment. Remy wasn't the only one that wouldn't be welcome back in New Orleans anymore.

His soft words had Remy closing his eyes. "_Je suis désolé, mon ami_."

"_T'en fais pas_." Don't worry, he told him. Spencer moved just a little closer until their arms were brushing against one another. "I'm where I want to be, Rem. I'm where I'm _supposed_ to be."

Whatever lay ahead of them, they'd face it together, the way that they were supposed to. Spencer leaned his head in until he could rest it against Remy's shoulder. Silent, the two stood there and watched as the city lights slowly faded into the night.

* * *

_There ends part one of all this. I'm making no promises on when part two comes out, but keep your eyes open for it!_


End file.
